


Spirit Thief Aesling - Season 2

by Elfy (elfowlgirl), kappa77, katrani



Series: Spirit Thief Aesling [2]
Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Illustrated Fic, the adventures continue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:32:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 85,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6785350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfowlgirl/pseuds/Elfy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kappa77/pseuds/kappa77, https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrani/pseuds/katrani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things can only go up from here. Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> For more art and some commentary, head on over to http://spiritthiefaesling.tumblr.com/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As everyone recovers from their injuries Markus is forced to adjust to a sudden lack of housing and income, Ashe must try to make amends with the idea of working with others, and Gregor has to try and lie his way through an incident report to the police.

Ashe, both as slowly and as quickly as she could muster, raised one hand to the door. There was a long, hanging moment of apprehension, of doubt, before Dont poked her sharply in the shoulder. She sighed, and knocked hard on the wood.

The wait, to be fair, was agonizing. She resisted the urge to count seconds under her breath as she stood there. Should she knock again? What if Gregor wasn’t there? There were blinds over the window in the door - what if he knew she was there and didn’t want to see her?

She guessed it was a minute by the time she knocked again, hopefully louder but probably not. Another wait, another silence, and then she slowly lowered her hand, still balled into a fist, to her side. Ashe managed a single step away before the door’s hinges finally creaked as it opened.

The man standing there wasn’t quite what she had been expecting to see, dressed as casually as he had when they were kids. Either his hair had grown longer or he hadn’t taken usual care with it that morning, bangs hanging almost too far in front of his face. He’d dropped the uniform for comfort, wearing a loose grey t-shirt and blue jeans instead. And, as he settled into the doorframe - leaning on it like someone half his age - Ashe noticed the slightest limp he was trying and failing to hide.

She opened her mouth, a million possibilities of conversation springing to mind, before she picked the simplest and easiest.

“Hi.”

He almost smiled. “Hi.”

He seemed surprisingly not worse for wear. She’d expected a cast at the least, or even him taking a few vacation days. But of course, of all people, Gregor Hartway hadn’t taken off work. “Are you…?”

“I’m fine. The lantern lady fixed me up a bit after we left the museum. Still hurts, but not nearly as bad as it did at first.”

“Oh. Okay.” Gods, she’d practiced this a dozen times. Why was doing it in person so difficult? Dont nudged her again, and she went for the simplest phrasing. “I wanted to… I came by to apologize.”

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“It was unfair of me to leave you in the dark about all that, even if I only wanted to protect you, and it was especially unfair after you already got hurt. I understand if you’re angry with me or fed up after all that happened with Charoth… and I’m sorry.”

Slowly, the detective smiled. It wasn’t as bright as his usual grin, but no less earnest - instead it was small, quiet, and calm. It struck her suddenly that Gregor seemed very tired. “I appreciate it, Kelly.”

She frowned. That hadn’t been forgiveness - not that she deserved it so easily. Still, she’d said her piece, and there were other things to talk about. She looked him over again, and wondered if this might not be too much. “Are you… okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine!” For a moment, he seemed lively again, if a bit frazzled. More like normal. “Just… trying to balance an explanation for this and a sudden influx in paperwork after a dozen noise complaints and earthquake reports coming from the art district…” He shrugged. “All in a day’s work, I guess.”

Ashe glanced at Dont, who nodded reassuringly - almost eagerly. “I did have something to ask you concerning… _that._ ”

He kept his smile and stood aside, gesturing her into the cramped office. Ashe stepped inside and he slid the door shut behind her. Dont fluttered over to the light switch and flicked it off, leaving the room lit only by the sunlight flooding in from the window.

Gregor raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment as Ashe tried to find words again. “Look. Even with Charoth purified and Inien beaten, they’re not the only darkness in the world. We both know I’m not going to stop doing this. And I don’t want you worried about me all the time, and you don’t want me worried about _you_ all the time…”

“So do you wanna be a Spirit Guardian too?” Dont piped up as she settled down on the detective’s desk. “That way you’re both safe, even if you don’t get into the thick of things, and you can keep an eye on Ashe when things get tough.”

“And I don’t think either of us could’ve stopped Inien and Markus on our own,” Ashe added, voice trailing off slightly.

Hartway rested one hand on his face and leaned back against the desk. "You do realize you’re asking me to break the law?”

“Well, there’ll be less thievery, now that the curator’s got his memory back,” she offered. “You don’t have to tag along if you don’t want to, and you don’t have to accept the offer otherwise. I just figured…”

He sighed. “It’s for the greater good?”

She visibly relaxed, shoulders slouching some as she realized how tense she was. “For the greater good.”

“I can stop by Melinda Museum after work in a couple hours, if that’s fine with you.”

“It is.”

“Great.” He moved back and opened the door, propping it open with his good foot. “I’ll see you later… what did the pigbat call you?”

“Ashe,” both of them answered at once. Ashe looked at Dont, who just smiled and shrugged.

She and her pigbat companion together headed out the door, and behind them, Gregor added, "See you later then, Ashe.”

She waved, only noticing once the door had closed that she had a huge grin on her face.

—

Ashe stepped inside, slipping the key into her bag. She turned to close the door behind herself, but stopped mid-turn as she actually saw her room.

She shut the door with a heavy slam, letting her head hang as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, well aware she might have some shouting to do in the next minute or two. Slowly, she turned to face the intruder. She managed a single step in his direction before Markus flew up from his seat - her desk chair - and stopped her with one hand. “Wait, wait, wait.”

“Markus - ”

He reached into his jacket and slid out a single red rose, which he proceeded to place gently behind her ear with a smile. “I was right, it does match your eyes.”

“Markus.” She snapped her fingers directly in front of his face. The only thing keeping her from shouting was the fact that he was here untransformed, rhinestone glasses and heavy scarf and all. “Markus, what’re you doing here? What do you want? How did you even get _into_ my room?”

“You’d be surprised what confidence and someone’s name will get you. And a bit of lock-picking.” He answered the easiest question first, glancing around nervously for a moment. Finally, he sighed and leaned back onto her bed. Ashe made a note to disinfect it later. “If you must know, Aesling - Kelly - whatever I’m supposed to call you now, I need your help.”

Ashe bit back a laugh. Of all the people, the great and powerful Markus Velafi needed _her_ help?

She said exactly that. If he was surprised that she knew his full name, he didn’t show it.

“Yes.” For the briefest instance, something flashed across his face, though she couldn’t place if it was regret or fear or anger. “Inien was the one who paid me. I don’t have a place to stay, much money saved, or a real job…”

Ashe did her best, standing in front of her desk with her arms crossed, to keep a neutral expression. Dont fluttered nervously in the corner.

Markus averted his eyes, tilting his head and the sunlight catching his lenses. He looked torn between fearful and sinister. “And there’s… do you know that feeling? I’m guessing you experienced it, too, when you transformed as me. That biting hunger, and the darkness running through your veins and ready to burst through your hands in a conflagration of power…”

He balled his hands into fists and his voice dropped to a whisper. “ _It won’t go away,_ Ashe. I feel like everything’s falling apart around me and I don’t know what to do.”

She glanced over to Dont, the pigbat seeming equally conflicted as she watched the blond. She couldn’t believe the idea she was getting, but turning him away was too cold, even with everything between them. “Would you be willing to give up your Thief abilities?” Ashe finally asked. Markus looked stunned, though his expression softened some when she added, “Or even become a Guardian, like me?”

His head nodded so slightly it was almost imperceptible. “Yeah.”

“Great.” She nodded back. “You and Dont can go down to the museum together. I have to pick up some stuff at a store down the street and then I’ll join you.”

Dont’s expression changed to something like surprise, if not outright terror. Ashe could practically see the memory of her being tied up and tossed in the closet flashing through her mind. “He won’t try anything,” Ashe promised. She glared at him. “Will you, Markus?”

Markus raised an eyebrow. “No?” He seemed to realize that wasn’t quite enough, and raised his hand as if making an oath. “I won’t do anything to harm Hedwig.”

Ashe knew it was the best they would get out of him. “See?” She pulled the door open. He dutifully got up from her bed, and a moment later, the pigbat followed him out the door.

Ashe collapsed into her desk chair with a sigh, burying her head in her hands. “This is going to be a long day…”

—

When Ashe arrived at Melinda Museum, bag at her side and newly acquired object waiting within it, she found the lobby empty - as expected, repairs were still underway - save for her trio of companions. Companions who, she noted dryly, seemed to only be barely tolerating each other’s existence.

Well, Dont and Gregor were fine. Neither of them seemed reassured by Markus standing awkwardly to the side, and the tension in the room visibly lowered as she pushed open the glass door.

“Kelly. What’s he doing here?” Gregor asked, still eyeing Markus warily.

The blond kept his expression resolutely neutral. “What’re _you_ doing here?”

“Ashe!” The pigbat clapped her hooves happily as flew forward. “ _Finally._ ”

“‘Finally’?” She took a few steps into the museum, footsteps echoing across the empty halls. “You two were getting along after we defeated Charoth… kind of.”

“And then I remembered he tried to kill me.”

“And then I remembered he’s a _cop_.” Markus paused for a long moment before he continued. “ _Threatened_. I _threatened_ to kill you. There is a large difference. Um. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Ashe gestured to Markus with one hand. “Markus is here because he’s going to redeem himself. I think after all that’s happened, he’s at least earned _that_.” She tried her best not to sound sarcastic; if her tone carried any, no one mentioned it.

She looked pointedly at the blond. “And Gregor is here because he, at the very least, is going to get something to protect himself with.” _From people like you_ went unsaid, but she could tell from her former rival’s bitter expression that he more than got the message.

Gregor looked up to the ceiling, the room mostly dim save for the sun’s rays streaming in from the skylight. “Are the lights not working yet?” he asked, interrupting the uncomfortable silence that momentarily threatened to settle.

“No, they are.” Dont glanced back and forth between the three awkwardly. “It’s, well, I turned the lights off in your office for the same reason. I don’t… Miss Kyl’il’s not supposed to know that I’m doing any of this. If I asked, I think there’s a fifty-fifty chance she’ll say no, so… I want to prove that it’ll work, first.”

“It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than beg for permission,” Markus quipped. “Although, won’t she know something’s happening, if she suddenly can’t see here?”

Dont blinked. “Um. I hadn’t thought of that, actually. Well, so long as she doesn’t notice right away.”

“And that’s why being a rebel can be handy at times,” Markus said smugly.

Ashe glared and pulled something out of her bag. She tightened her grip on it, and a moment later Markus sputtered and attempted to wipe the water droplets from his face.

“Is that a _spray bottle?_ ”

She nodded as he eyed her warily. “Yep. Be glad it’s not holy water.”

“You can’t just treat me like I’m a cat - GAH, STOP IT!” He sputtered again at the second assault, then pulled his glasses from his face and tried to find a dry spot on his shirt to wipe them off.

“Markus, with complete and utter honesty, I don’t trust you.” She moved her hand to her side, still clutching the bottle like a weapon.

“Wow, you _don’t_ trust me? I’m _so_ surprised.” He frowned and inspected the lenses before sliding his glasses back on. “I can be a goodie two-shoes like you.”

“I’m willing to watch you try. And until you’ve proven yourself, you’re going to get the spray bottle.”

Dont raised a hoof and coughed awkwardly, calling their attention back. “Now, if we could get this whole thing underway…” The group each turned to her and she fluttered close to Markus, then Gregor. “Let’s see… Ashe, come over here, too. I want to try something.”

“Okay?” She stepped to stand with the others, and the pigbat seemed lost in thought for a moment.

“This might be a bit difficult!” She announced. “For all of you, I’ll be modifying pre-existing spirit energy, instead of just giving it, like I did with Ashe when she was first made a Guardian. Let’s start with you, Ashe. Hold out your hand, this’ll hurt just a tiny bit.”

Once Ashe did as she was instructed, Dont moved close and bit her finger, the tiniest of fangs sinking easily into her skin. The girl flinched for a moment, and a second later she squeezed her eyes shut tight as a familiar ray of light enveloped her. It was unexpected and somewhat jolted, almost flickering, before it faded and Ashe was transformed. “Good thing this place is still closed for repairs,” she said as she looked herself over. “What did you do? That felt like it kind of… _forced_ my magic forward.”

“I’m giving you all… I’m not quite sure what the proper term would be, but basically a way to manifest your abilities whilst untransformed. You’ll probably get a mark from it, kind of like a birthmark, but it’ll work as a focus if something ever happens and you can’t transform in public.”

“That’s useful,” she nodded and looked to her companions. Dont did as well, frowning and glancing between the duo several times before moving in front of Gregor.

“The only downside is that’ll leave you much more tired and out of it than usual. Let’s see, we’ll do the transformations for you two first, and then the mark. What do you want to use as your trinket? Ashe has her little charm-hairclip-thing.” She gestured to the pin on the Thief’s sash. “Something you can - or do - carry with you often.”

“That’s easy.” The detective reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny black leather square. At first Ashe thought it was a wallet, until he flipped it open to reveal his shining golden badge.

“That’ll do!” Dont gripped it with both hooves, making sure to hold it carefully as she lifted it from his palm. “Now, think about what you want to do with this power - how you want to help Ashe defend the city, how you want to protect others, that sort of thing.”

Gregor nodded solemnly, focusing. This wasn’t so different from his drive to become a police officer; it all came down to helping others with whatever he could do manage by his own two hands. Keeping them safe and sound from threats they didn’t even consider, or ones that appeared suddenly.

Dont waited a moment, then leaned forward to place her nose to his forehead. A flare of brilliant light filled the room, so bright it was almost blinding. After everyone had cleared the spots from their eyes, she noticed the look of surprise Gregor was giving her. “I needed to tap into the energy you already had. Um. Sorry.”

He shook his head and took the badge back. “It’s fine.”

“Alright, so, you’re going to have to try to _command_ the energy to use to transform instead of just _drawing_ on it. You’re using pre-existing energy, like I said - you got some of it when you were possessed by the spirit during the musical, and then a bunch more from wielding the Glaive of the Waves… Oh! One sec!” Dont abruptly took off into the east wing, and Gregor frowned ever so slightly.

He turned to the duo. “You’re going to have to explain to me at some point what _exactly_ happened during the _Phantom of the Opera_.”

Markus at the very least looked slightly ashamed, and Ashe opened her mouth as if she were going to respond, then thought better of it. She turned and squirted Markus with the bottle again.

“ _You can’t do it retroactively!_ ” He leaned forward and made a grab for the bottle, only to almost fall over as she darted backwards. Markus barely caught his balance, then grabbed at it again. Ashe took off, Markus following her. Gregor’s frown deepened.

Dont returned with the glaive in tow, watching the duo as they ran through the gallery with a bemused look. “Alright, let’s see if I can get this to work right,” she mumbled, evidently choosing to ignore them. “Show me your badge again, and think about when you first picked this up.”

Gregor did so, and the pigbat closed her eyes. She touched the tip of the glaive to the badge, and with another flash, it disappeared. Behind them, Markus came to a slow stop, hands on his knees and breathing heavy. “Truce?”

Ashe considered it for a moment, then nodded and placed the spray bottle on the floor. “Truce.”

“C’mon back here guys, it’s ready.” As the two came over - Markus considerably more slowly - Dont hovered backwards. “You’re going to want to imagine who you are, what you stand for, like a moment ago, but this time as if you’re showing others. The transformation should be instinctual, especially with the glaive there to help you.”

He looked as his badge with interest as she continued. “You’ll also be the group’s Warrior, so start it by saying ‘ _Handsome Magical Spirit Warrior Gregor_ ’!”

“Why does _he_ get to keep his name and _I’m_ ‘Horatio’?” Markus crossed his arms. “It’s a good name, sure, but if others get to know me I want it to be by _my_ name.”

“Guardian names, at the very least, are fluid.” Dont remarked. “If you want to stay Horatio you can be Horatio, if you want to be Markus then you can be Markus! Gregor has his first name because he seems quite confident in who he is and it fits for him. If he doesn’t like it, he can change it.” She glanced over to the detective. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “ _Handsome Magical Spirit Warrior Gregor!_ ”

Gregor held his badge tightly in one hand, and moved his arm out in front of him. He waited a moment for it to glow - as it did, he passed it across him in a straight line. The light lingered there, and at the end of its arc, the badge disappeared. He grabbed the line of light with his right hand, and as he did, its blade and crossguard blossomed, the light manifesting into wood at his fingertips.

He spun it once, then slammed the dull end into the ground; his hat popped off his head and vanished, his scar was wiped away as though it were a makeup under wet cloth, and his hair lengthened, now easily flowing down to his lower back.

Gregor spun the glaive for a couple moments more, masked behind it by the whirling metal and wood. A single band fastened itself around his hair, tying it back. He stopped abruptly and pulled the polearm to his side - at some point during his display, his uniform had been replaced. A single silver shoulder plate rested on his left side, and his hands, still gripping the glaive, were now covered by golden gauntlets. A pair of belts wrapped around his waist, and he wore silver boots to match his shoulder plate.

The remainder of his outfit was red, cloth flowing out to the side and past his waist as it almost covered his white pants. The front of it, in gold, reminded Ashe a little of the same kind of suit he’d worn during the musical, but not quite.

And he now stood, weapon in hand and ready for battle.

Dont clapped cheerfully. “Wow, that worked as well as I thought it would! Now, run your glaive through your hair and concentrate to activate your bindings.“ Gregor, somewhat uncertainly, did so, looking on in amazement as a trio of hair ties popped into existence and wrapped around it in three spots. His shoulder plate, gauntlets and boots each vanished. "Warriors have a tough time drawing on magic, so they don’t use it much - and your weapon is spirit enhanced, so you’ll likely have to use it as a focus for what little magic you _can_ do.”

“Neat.” He ran his glaive back through his hair, nearly catching it on the first tie as the armor reappeared. “What’s the other one for?”

“Partially to look neat, and also so that in combat you can activate each side of your bindings together. Armor makes you stronger, ties make you faster. You can have both, but you’ll tire out real quickly.” She turned to Markus, immediately fluttering into his face and causing him to take an uncertain step back. “Now, gimme your trinket.”

He pulled his glasses from his face, almost tentatively handing them over. “Be careful with those. I don’t exactly have the cash on hand for replacements.”

Dont’s expression slowly twisted into a frown as she inspected the frames. “This is gonna be tougher than I thought… You’ve got a fair bit of non-corrupted energy - from Charoth, I’m guessing - but a lot more corrupted energy than I was expecting. I might need Ashe’s help with this.”

Markus took another half-step back and narrowed his eyes. “So you’re asking me to trust not only you, but Ashe, too?”

Ashe crossed her arms, mouth pressed into a thin line and expression unreadable. “Are you saying you asked me for help and didn’t already trust me? Or that I’m less trustworthy than you are?”

The blond mimicked her expression and the two engaged in a staredown. “Why do you insist on ruining my fun?”

After a moment, realizing that Ashe still hadn’t responded back with something snarky, Markus rolled his eyes. “See, this is where you reply ‘why do you insist on having fun?’ and then we bicker cutely for a bit.”

“Really?” She grinned. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.”

Dont, for lack of fingers to snap with, loudly clapped her hind hooves together to once again grab their attention. “C’mon guys, the sooner we do this the sooner we get it over with. Ashe, put your hand on my back. If you feel _any_ dark energy, purify it.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Markus, for you… ” The pigbat looked uncertain for a moment, but then nodded. “Use whatever drew you to Ashe. Whatever feelings you had that helped save her life, or kept anyone from getting hurt at the school. Whatever pushed you to come ask for help. It’s the most pure thing I could draw out of you, and it’ll help Ashe sense any corrupted energy, too.”

As Dont flew closer to Markus, Ashe placed her hand in the small of her back, just behind her wings. The glasses in the pigbat’s grasp began to glow a pristine white, and, after closing her eyes, the Thief reached out with her own power.

She felt the circulation of Dont’s magic like the ebb and flow of a tide, lapping at her own as she focused. Thin drops of darkness seemed to appear within the pool, and as her energy took to purifying it, she took a couple seconds to consider what she, for lack of a better word, _saw_ there.

Ashe had little experience with the powers of fully-fledged spirits - and only Charoth for that part - but she did find that Dont’s power reserves were larger than she’d expected for such a small creature. The energy did seem to taper off uncertainly past a point, and it was almost as if… as if the energy wasn’t aware the reserve was bigger.

_Like it was artificially made larger._

Some part of Ashe guessed she - or Charoth - was responsible for that.

The ebb of the magic seemed to die some, and the corrupted energy stopped entirely, so she slowly pulled her own energy back, peeking one golden eye open.

Dont gave her an affirmative nod and she removed her hand. The pigbat fluttered forward and slid the glasses onto Markus’ face. He frowned and adjusted them.

“You should have very little dark energy left within you, if any at all. You know what to say?”

He nodded slowly. “I… heard it. Or something.”

Dont shrugged. “Magic does weird stuff. You’ve got a great affinity for it.”

Markus smirked, held two fingers to his lenses, and winked. “ _Handsome Dark Magical Rogue Markus!_ ”

His hair loosened from its tie, leaving it to trail down his back as wisps of light blue began to dance around his glasses. They faded away, and the wisps each seemed to darken in color as they spread out.

Horns sprouted from his forehead, and as he spun around, one hand on his still-forming cape, Ashe caught sight of a pointed tail peeking out from beneath. After his bracers appeared around his wrists, claws extended from his fingers.

As his spin came to an end, he brought one leg down hard on the ground - a brief explosion of blue and red flame erupted around him. He shook his hair out of his face, and there was Markus, fully transformed.

He still grinned a sharp-toothed grin, but seemed less… hostile. He lacked the air of unease that Ashe hadn’t even realized he carried with him until now. His uniform was the same as it had always been, save for the missing mask. She could see the faintest shadows of those dark veins around his eyes, but decided it would be almost imperceptible to all but the most trained eye.

“Huh.” Markus looked himself over, then shrugged when he found nothing of his appearance different. “I like it. Keeps it looking ‘me’.”

“And demonic.” Ashe smirked.

“I happen to _like_ demonic, thank you,” he spat back. “What do I do now, though, that I’m not drawing on dark magic for my attacks? Does your kind of magic even… _have_ a pure manifestation?”

“Try it and see,” Dont offered. “Give me a minute to take a breather, this is wearing me out more than I thought. Oh, and thanks, Ashe.”

Markus leapt back, startled, when his hand suddenly erupted in blue-toned fire. It didn’t have the same murky quality as his shadow blasts, burning brightly instead of roiling mist. The tips of the fire seemed to almost tinge red, and he studied it in his palm.

The Rogue let the fire die, then tightened his hand into a fist and curled it in towards his wrist. “I think I can almost…” Like a magic trick, when he pulled back, tucked in his hand was a small dagger-looking weapon made of the same material. He laughed brightly, and Ashe realized that, for once, it was a sound without malice behind it. _He’s certainly a different person, now._

Markus tossed the dagger in the air and watched it dissipate. “I can figure out a few tricks with this.”

Gregor eyed the flames warily. At the raised eyebrow he got from Ashe, he clarified, “I’m just… not so good with fire.”

“Oh.” She remembered hearing about _that_ from Wren, after she had gone back home one year. “Right, sorry.”

“I’ll get used to it, I guess.” Gregor watched Markus for a minute, then started examining himself again. “I never would’ve thought any of this could exist.”

“Well, it does.” Ashe took a breath. “Sorry again for keeping it from you.”

Gregor shrugged. “I probably would’ve done the same. I can’t blame you, really.”

Markus looked towards the two of them, but before he could say anything, Dont flew back over to the trio.

“Alright, let’s get the marks underway for you two, now. Gregor, your turn again.” The Warrior obediently stepped before Dont. “I’m sorry to say, your mark is going to be a lot more painful than Ashe’s was. Considering how you acquired the awakening of your magic, it’ll be more like… a scar, I guess, than a birthmark.”

Gregor just shrugged. “It won’t be the first scar I’ve gotten.” He gestured with a thumb at his cheek, smiling a little.

Ashe seemed less accepting. “Are you sure?”

Dont nodded sagely. “It’s much safer for him to have one, especially since he’s your Warrior. A few seconds of pain are better than being caught without his badge and getting killed.”

“Kelly, I’ll be fine. And Dont is right, it’s better to be prepared at the cost of a little pain now.”

She mumbled something about not calling her that when she was transformed, but didn’t argue further. Her brow furrowed. “When did this all become so… _serious?_ ”

“Ashe, I almost maimed you when we first met and last week we all fought the shrimp-formed manifestation of death.” Markus flicked another one of his daggers into the air. “I think it’s always been serious.”

“It doesn’t seem that way sometimes - wait, manifestation of death? What?”

Markus blinked. “You didn’t know that’s what Charoth is?”

Ashe shook her head. Inien’s goals made more sense now. “But where did he come from then? And how did - ”

“I can explain later!” Dont dipped nervously, her flight faltering for just a moment before she regained her composure. “But for now, time’s probably running short. Gregor?”

“It would be better if it’s somewhere that it’ll be easy to cover, but also wouldn’t be suspicious if I wore something that left it visible,” Gregor said, focusing on the pigbat. Dont nodded and he held his hand out so she could bite his finger.

A second later Ashe winced as the sound and smell of meat burning hit her nose and ears, but Gregor just hissed quietly and clutched the back of his neck with his free hand, eyes clamped shut and teeth gritted _._

_He wasn’t kidding about being able to handle it. He’s certainly been through worse._

After a few seconds, the hissing stopped. While the detective took some deep breaths and Ashe lent him her shoulder to lean on, Dont turned to Markus.

“Yours will be different as well. Maybe more like a stain?” Before he could say anything, she flew forward and bit his finger.

Markus’s face was one of surprise for only an instant before it turned to one of horror and began to rub each arm as though he were attempting to get warm. “Gah - _why would you_ \- GAH.” A shudder ran through him and, after a moment, he finally dropped his hands from his arms and rubbed the back of his left shoulder. “Okay, first, a little more warning next time? That was _extremely_ unpleasant.”

He turned his head to Dont and looked her straight in the eyes. “Second, you better start praying to whatever gods pigbats have and hope that didn’t cover my tattoos - “ The creaking of hinges cut Markus off mid-threat.

From behind the door that marked his office, the curator emerged. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see them, his face a mask as his gaze flicked quickly between each of the group before settling on Markus. “Hmph.”

“Hello…” Dont waved, then scrunched up her nose in confusion. “Do you want us to call you Dan or Thog?”

The curator shrugged. “Like I said a few days ago, I don’t care. Thog might be best because of the relation to spirit stuff, but obviously not in public.”

“You don’t mind us being here, right?”

Thog glanced at Ashe. “Nah. It’s easier to get to than Kinir, and better to get in contact with you if I need your help. Dealing with spirits should be much more… _straightforward_ now. For both of us.” His eyes flicked back to the duo standing behind her. “And them, since it seems they’re involved again. Kyl’il didn’t give me any heads-up about that.”

Dont and Ashe shared a look. “It’s… just Dont, for now,” Ashe admitted.

Thog looked them all over again, a small smirk crossing his face. “Is that so?” He shook his head. “Have fun with that, then. I have more repairs to order.” He walked across to the front desk, grabbed a folder sitting there, and returned to his office.

The three Spirit Guardians all shifted their feet nervously, and looked at one another. “We’re a team now,” Ashe said quietly. “I don’t quite know all of what that’ll mean, but…” She bit her lip, not sure where to take that thought.

“It does mean we’ll support each other.” Gregor took a deep breath, then faced Markus. “If you really are turning over a new leaf, then I’ll try to put the past behind us.”

Markus nodded. “Thank you,” he said, surprisingly somber. It lasted only a moment before a smile returned. “And I’ll try not to choke you again.”

Gregor’s eyes narrowed. Ashe coughed and looked away.

Markus sighed, and rocked back on his heels. “Maybe a bit too soon? Really, for good guys, you two aren’t very forgiving.”

“Or maybe you need better jokes,” Ashe pointed out, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, I think that’s all we can do. There’s no spirits here tonight, right Dont?”

The pigbat shook her head. “Nope! None at all.” She looked around. “Or if there were, they kind of got burned out and scared into dormancy by the fight and Charoth awakening. It’ll be a while before things are fully back to normal. But there’s nothing we can do abo… oh no.” She drifted to the floor, cowering slightly as the lights flickered back on. “We’re out of time. Quick, transform back!”

An emblem started glowing on one of the lights along the wall, a flower blooming out of fire. Kyl’il’s voice sounded. “They might as well stay as they are.” A moment later an image of her appeared, ghostly and flickering like flame. “I was planning on seeing this as soon as things came back. I cannot say I was expecting to have to fight your power, young Dont.”

Dont dived behind Ashe, peeking out from behind the girl’s knees. “I, um. There’s a good reason for this!” she squeaked.

Gregor moved to Ashe’s side, kneeling for a moment to pick up the pigbat. She burrowed against his shoulder in thanks before turning to face her teacher, and he leveled his gaze at Kyl’il. “We asked for a way to help.”

“Well, maybe not to help exactly, but close enough,” Markus added, stepping forward as well.

Kyl’il tilted her head to the side. “Do you all truly think that I am angry? That I would appear in this way if I were in a rage, instead of actually leaving my home?”

“That’s… a good point,” Ashe said.

Dont relaxed, just a little. “You’re not mad? At all?”

Kyl’il’s image walked forward, passing through the remaining rubble instead of stepping over it. She studied the three Spirit Guardians, nodded to herself, then looked directly at Dont. “I’m training you to be able to be a Guardian Spirit,” she pointed out. “And as you gain experience, I must start trusting your judgment. Why not now, with two that have shown promise, and no dire situation immediately at hand?”

Dont perked up and giggled. “Thank you!” she said. “I’d thought… Since I didn’t ask first, you might be mad at that.”

“Perhaps a little,” Kyl’il admitted. “But it’s another precaution. If it’s something helpful like this, if it’s not you causing trouble, then I will not scald you for it. If I ever do, it is a sign that I’ve started to become corrupted, and you will have to do much more to fix things.”

Gregor turned towards his companions. “That’s a thing that can happen?”

Markus shrugged. “Any spirit can be affected by dark energy, yeah.”

“And so you’re taking precautions.” Ashe smiled, although her expression quickly turned to worry. “It’s smart, but is it really necessary?”

Kyl’il took a moment to answer. “It’s as necessary as faithful Gregor and burning Markus being given transformations. Which I am glad to see is all you felt the need to hide from me.” She nodded to each of them, and turned back towards the light she’d appeared from. “I trust you all to make the right decisions.” With that, she disappeared, her image dissipating into wisps of smoke and the emblem disappearing from the light.

Dont sighed, then turned to Ashe. “I should go to the lighthouse, and talk with Miss Kyl’il properly.” She glanced over her shoulder. “It felt like she was holding something back.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later,” Ashe said, and then added quietly, “Tell Charoth hi for me?” She wasn’t sure why, but she liked reminding the spirit of her presence. Maybe because she’d purified him, or because he’d latched onto her after the fight.

“Of course!” Dont waved, then flew out of the museum.

“We should all get going,” Gregor pointed out, closing his eyes. He let go of his glaive, and with it his transformation. The armor fell away in wisps of smoke, there was a faint sheen of light around him, and then he stood in his normal form again. “It’s getting late.”

Markus also dropped his transformation, his costume melting away into shadows before a burst of purple light left him normal as well. He checked his phone. “It’s only seven thirty.”

“And a school night,” Gregor said with a pointed look at Ashe.

She rolled her eyes, but nodded and turned back. “Yeah, and I’m supposed to meet with my friends to study a bit anyways. I guess… We’ll see each other later?”

Both of the guys nodded. All three of them waved to each other and left the Melinda Museum, back to their ordinary selves for the night.

—

Gregor returned to the precinct building, and to his office. Azura was just leaving her own office, and stopped to lean against his doorframe. “Do you need something, Captain?” Gregor asked.

Camberwell looked him over. “I’m trying to cut you some slack, Hartway,” she said. “Considering your injury and that you are still helping the rookies right now with their own cases. But I _need_ that report on the Melinda incident by noon tomorrow.”

He sat at his desk, trying not to look too pained by his leg while doing so. “I know. Sorry, I’ve just been waiting for when I can think it all through and not have it get hazy.”

An odd expression dawned on her as she raised a hand to her face, not quite touching the old scars there. “And I know how that is. But a simple gas explosion doesn’t cause that kind of destruction, not without help.”

“Understood, Captain.” Gregor picked up a pen. “I’ll get started now.”

She smiled at that, and straightened a little. “You don’t have to - I didn’t mean to take up your night. _I’m_ not even that much of a workaholic.”

“But I’ve been putting this off.”

“True. In that case, I’ll be in my office. Let me know when you’re done.” She nodded to him and walked away.

“Yes’m.” Gregor saluted her as she turned around, knowing it was better not to argue. Azura _always_ refused to leave anyone alone overnight. There was an understandable reason for it, but Gregor felt a little guilty over making her stay when she’d been planning to head out.

He looked at the blank paper in front of him, ready for his personal accounting of what had happened at the museum. The papers all said it was a gas explosion, and Dan backed that up enough that the reporters had all cleared out over the last few days, the lack of further thefts further dulling their interest. No one had been hurt besides himself. All that could be considered ‘off’ about it was some odd rubble placement, the lack of any burst lines, and an officer’s intuition.

_I should tell the truth. …Except… that’d just cause more trouble for Kelly - for Ashe, and for Markus. It would bring too much attention to Dan and Kyl’il and spirits, and maybe cause a witch hunt. But it would also help Azura get a sense of what’s going on, to better protect the citizens of the city. Isn’t that what I should do? Protect Braeden?_

Kyl’il’s words echoed in his head.

_I trust you all to make the right decisions._

Gregor took a deep breath, and started writing.

—

Markus wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go. His own hotel room was paid until the end of the month, and still available, but it didn’t feel right staying there. Not anymore. So far he’d been lucky, finding a few parties to crash and taking up space on someone’s couch after everyone else was passed out. But that was risky.

He was already out of cash, too, without Inien around to pay him every couple days. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he passed a crowd of people. Normally he’d try and pickpocket something, but he reminded himself that he really should try to put that behind him. He was going to be a good guy now.

Whatever that meant.

_Use whatever drew you to Ashe._

The pigbat’s words came back to the front of his mind. Not entirely useful at the moment. There were no muggings to stop, no thefts he could halt. Nothing that might earn him a decent reward.

He passed the street leading down to the docks, the wind heavy with the smell of saltwater. The pigbat’s words weren’t going to help him, but maybe a similar thought would. Markus headed towards the warehouses near the docks, quiet and slippery as a shadow. The guards were easy enough to slip past, and he found his destination quickly enough.

He might be above stealing now, but picking a lock was something else entirely. _That_ didn’t have to hurt anyone. A simple padlock, a doorknob, and Markus was in.

It still smelled like death and sickness and blood. But it had four walls, and a roof, and seemed to be just as abandoned as the first time he’d come here. Markus tore down a bit of cloth hanging as a makeshift wall, and leaned against an actual wall as he collapsed to the floor.

It was hard to shut out the memories as he fell asleep, but he managed - except for Inien’s laugh, ringing through Markus’ head, here where she’d first judged him worthy.

—

Ashe found her friends in the lounge area of their dorm, clustered together at a table. “Sorry I’m late,” she said as she set her bag down.

“Kels!” Selena looked up excitedly and nudged a chair out for her. “Have you heard? We’re getting that science T.A. early!”

“Rachel saw him - he asked her for directions to the main office. She said he’s really cute,” Eileen added dryly, when Ashe just looked confused for a moment. “Although until we can see him for ourselves, I’m not going to get too excited.”

Aeva shushed them. “We can gossip later. I need help with my math first, though. Kelly, can you help explain this? Selena’s too smart for me.”

Ashe smiled, sitting down. “Yeah, I can help.” She got her books out. This was normal, being with her friends and finishing homework. Talking about school gossip, and changes with their teachers. But she kept glancing outside, hoping to see a pigbat silhouette flying back towards the dorm. Kept thinking about having people to help her with spirit things now. About trusting someone that had hurt her, and earning back the trust of one of her oldest friends.

Being at school was normal, but she itched to be at the museum, trying to purify a spirit, helping people and putting her focus to something meaningful. She wanted to be transformed, fire and life coursing through her, lightning at her call.

_Any spirit can be corrupted, yeah._

Markus’s words made her shudder. “I’m fine, just a bit chilly in here,” she said when her friends looked up worriedly. She took a deep breath and shook her head, forcing herself to focus on her friends. _Normal. I’m normal right now,_ she thought. _And like it or not, I have to act like it._


	2. Friction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new team has serious problems working together in the field, and all begin to doubt their new alliance.

A blast of fire erupted against the wall next to Aesling, and she turned to shout over her shoulder. “Watch your aim!”

“Well, maybe don’t get in my way!” Markus snapped by way of reply, as he leapt aside from a golden tail that slammed into the space beside him.

Gregor scowled, slashing at each of the bejeweled gold pages that swarmed him, flying on an unending breeze. “I could use some help here, guys!”

“Sorry,” Ashe said, abandoning her position to rush to his aid. Markus threw a fireball in the same instant, aiming at the pages, but they scattered and she wound up pulling Gregor to the ground with her to avoid the burst of flames.

The pages whirled about, suddenly taking on an aura that felt more heavy and solid. They started sliding into place, fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle before taking on a more definite form. The shape, wide and round like some kind of foreign beast - or just an enormous armadillo, the more Ashe considered it - braced itself and roared at them, quickly choosing to bear down on pair laying on the ground.

The two scrambled to their feet, and Markus’ next fireball finally landed a blow on the spirit. It whirled about to face him, only for Gregor to rush in and slash at its side. Ashe made a running jump to land on its back, the engraved pages actually having enough texture and substance that it was easy for her to find balance there.

She saw Markus reaching for it as it turned towards Gregor once more and shook her head. “I’ve got this under control!” she insisted, moments before the spirit reared up on its hind legs. The sudden force tossed her over, and she was suddenly rolling down its back and onto its tail, which it started to whip wildly back and forth in an effort to shake her off.

She wrapped her arms around it and pressed her hand hard to the pages, energy flickering to her fingertips in an attempt to purify it. A sharp welling suddenly filled her chest, instilling her with a sense of panic, of claustrophobia and homesickness, but despite her magic clearly making contact, it shook her loose and remained intact.

“Ashe!” Dont flew down to her, hovering next over the Thief’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” Ashe slowly clambered back to her feet, breathing hard as the guys continued distracting the spirit. A few spots on its sides were charred now from Markus’ fireballs, and the ring of metal on metal echoed whenever Gregor struck at it. “Purifying didn’t take right away.”

Dont turned towards it, her eyes narrowing. “That means it’s closer to manifesting properly, and to being able to act on thought instead of instinct. Even so, it’s still corrupted, and we have to help it before it hurts anyone.”

“I know, I know,” Ashe nodded absent-mindedly as she moved to join the fight once more, her gaze scanning the battlefield for an opening. The spirit was focused on Markus, mismatched eyes locked on him, leaving her to run alongside Gregor. The two of them almost crashed into each other, as the Warrior hadn’t seen her and rushed in himself, but she managed to sidestep him just in time. He still went off-balance - though it didn’t matter much now. Ashe leapt forward to grab one of the spirit’s feet, and reached into its essence once more.

This time, she felt it give a little. Her magic flowed into it, the same relaxing stream of energy she’d felt so many times before. It fought her, bit at her, but this was nothing compared to the chaotic maelstrom that had been Charoth. There was that familiar flash of light, and for the briefest instant she thought she saw a small shape waiting within it - and then the pages were falling to the floor like a new blanket of snow on a cold winter’s day. The sparkling gems embedded in the gold now formed simple images instead of being mere accents for the engraved words.

The three Spirit Guardians stood there, each trying to catch their breath. Ashe turned toward Markus, glaring at him. “You need to be more careful with your fireballs. Neither of us wants to be burned.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still getting used to this all!” Markus answered, voice rising some as he bared his fangs at her. “It’s not like I’ve ever been _part_ of a team before.”

“Well, maybe you should consider what that means before joining us.”

“Maybe you should, too.” That reply came from Gregor, the Warrior looking somewhat uncertain if not slightly irritated. “You weren’t acting with the most forethought either, Ashe. You almost ran me over towards the end of the fight, and could’ve messed a lot up or gotten one of us hurt.”

She bit her lip and averted her yellow-eyed gaze. “…I know. I’m sorry.”

“Then don’t put all the blame on me,” Markus grumbled.

“Are you all done in here yet?” Before the argument could start up again, Thog stepped into the mostly-empty gallery. He glanced at the pile of pages on the floor and shook his head. “You Guardians never seem to care for anything other than yourselves, I swear.”

Dont flew over to him, a little hesitantly. “The spirit’s a relatively strong one,” she informed him dutifully as he looked up at her. “Enough that it gave an impression of what it felt, and fought the purification. It might need to go…” She glanced at the others, then lowered her voice - it wasn’t quiet enough, evidently, as in the empty museum her words could still be heard. “Go to Miss Kyl’il, and the meadows.”

Thog frowned as he kneeled beside the golden pages, arranging them in order one-by-one as he picked them up off the floor and checking the numbers on the side of each. “Damn, and this was going to be a key piece of the exhibit.”

“Because people really love knowing that the art they’re seeing has tragic origins,” Markus said sarcastically. “Like everything else in this fucking place.” He pushed past the group, Rogue uniform falling away, and headed for the museum’s entrance. The glass door fell shut behind him, the blond’s words echoing even after he was already gone. “Call me when there’s a _real_ threat.”

Gregor and Ashe watched him go, the Warrior confused and the Thief a little guilty. _Still, no helping it now,_ she thought, biting her lip despite her supposed lack of worry.

Gregor turned towards Thog as his own uniform was replaced with his casual apparel. “What kind of exhibit?” he asked, voice wavering between curiosity and eagerness to change the subject.

“Like Markus said, it’s featuring artworks with tragic origins,” the curator explained. “At least he looked at the signs. For instance, this book; the mines where most of the gems came from suffered a lot of cave-ins - I think seven in just the three months it took to get everything that was used for it. The other pieces on their way have similar stories - poisonous dye in paints, nobility commissioning works instead of buying food for winter stores, people acquiring the works via theft and murder, things like that.”

Gregor let out a low whistle. “There’s enough of those to have a gallery of them?”

“If you know where to look, you can find enough to have a whole museum full.”

“That’s kind of morbid,” Ashe pointed out, though she still seemed distracted. She paused, sighed, and ran a hand through her white hair. “Do you think I should go apologize to Markus?”

Dont fluttered over, settling gently on her shoulder. “If we can catch up to him, it might not be a bad idea. But at the same time…” She shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“You both seem pretty likely to lose your tempers,” Gregor agreed. “Save it for tomorrow, maybe?”

“You’re probably right.” Ashe sighed again, leaning against the wall as she did so - the pigbat wisely removed herself and hopped back into the air. The Thief glanced towards Thog. “That’s all you needed us for tonight, right?”  
  
“Hm?” Thog tore his gaze away from the golden book and back to Ashe, then nodded. “Yeah, you guys can go. Orogeny’s the only one that came in tonight who needs attention.”

The corner of Ashe’s mouth twitched, threatened by a frown for but a moment - she was almost certain the display case she’d seen had not been labelled “ _Orogeny_ ”. She considered it for a second more, then shrugged and let the light envelop her as her school uniform replaced her Thief’s. Her favorite green jacket waited in the lobby, draped over the front desk, and she quickly slid it on. “Night, Gregor,” she called to the detective.

“Good night.” His gaze settled on the large yellow envelope that had been sitting under her jacket. “Sending something out?”

Ashe gave a small smile, though she still looked worn from the evening’s events. She shifted some of the red hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. It’s for the park design, with the new community center. The deadline’s this week, so I’m gonna drop it in a mailbox on my way back to the dorm.”

Gregor nodded to her. “Good luck, then.”

“Thanks.” They waved to each other, and went their own ways - Ashe heading south towards Varyndir’s, and Gregor west to his house.

She thought about going after Markus again, before she settled into bed. Even with Gregor telling her to leave it, she wanted to fix things _now_. But she had no idea where he stayed, if he was still at that hotel, or if he’d even have gone back there after the fight.

“It’ll be okay,” Dont said as they each laid down to sleep, picking up on her unease. “You all are meant to be a team. I’m sure of it!”

Ashe smiled at that. “If you’re so certain, I guess it has a chance of being true,” she teased. “Good night, Dont.”

—

Ashe’s eyes flew open suddenly and she half-jumped, half-fell out of bed. She scanned the room as quickly as she could, simultaneously grasping for a sword she couldn’t find and searching for the source of the roaring as it echoed in her ears - only to realize it was just her phone vibrating loudly against the dull carpet of her floor. She picked up the buzzing device, turned off her alarm, and weakly sat back down on her bed. “I need to get these nightmares sorted out,” she murmured to herself as she took the opportunity to rub the newly-found sleep from her eyes.

Dont wiggled her way out from under the blankets at the foot of the bed. “You didn’t sleep well again?”

“I feel like I did, but…” Ashe shrugged sluggishly. “I shouldn’t be waking up in a panic at my alarm.” She turned it over in her hands before unlocking it. “Maybe I should set a song instead.”

She checked updates that came overnight, excited messages from her friends wondering about the new teacher’s assistant. It was hard to match them, considering how poorly last night had gone. She scrolled through her contacts, eventually settling on the new entry of “ _Markus V._ ” Her finger hovered over it. _I should say something,_ she thought, _trying to be reasonable. I need to give him more of a chance, right?_

None of the right words seemed to come to her, and the risk of reigniting their fight loomed over her intent. Instead she got ready for her day, forcing a smile as she said good-bye to Dont and headed out the door to meet her friends for breakfast.

—

Markus still didn’t know what to do with himself - he couldn’t wander around the city forever. Even with Braeden’s sprawl and various districts, it was boring now. He felt like he was in a funk, apathy clawing at his mind, but he had no idea what to do if he wasn’t out partying or stealing. If there was no race in his life, no next goal to chase, no adrenaline waiting just behind the next corner. It probably didn’t help that he was in physical pain as well, the concrete floor of the warehouse gradually taking its toll on his back.

He found himself in the arts district, at a small park with an outdoor amphitheater. Some group was on stage, running through a play. He waited at the back wall, listening absentmindedly but not really watching them. His thoughts kept circling back to last night, to almost hurting Gregor and Ashe. He shouldn’t care, right? Injuries in their Guardian forms barely carried over, and they’d purified the spirit anyways. Everything was fine.

Wasn’t it?

He scowled and leaned back against the wall of the amphitheater, sliding to the floor and settling there. He _wanted_ to be good now, to try and make up for things - all that he’d been a part of, what he’d almost caused. But how the hell was he supposed to do that? He had no idea how to work with others, and it’s not like anyone seemed eager to teach him

His phone chimed, interrupting his brooding. He opened one eye to check it, then sat up straight when he saw it was a text from Aesling - their numbers exchanged at Gregor’s insistence that everyone be able to reach each other. His temper flared for a moment, and he debated just deleting it, but then he realized that was incredibly petty and opened it instead.

_I’m sorry for yelling at you. We’re all trying. It’ll take a while, but keep it up?_

Just as he finished reading it, another message appeared:

_I mean I see your effort. Don’t think I don’t._

Markus had to stifle a laugh. Ashe acted tough, but here she was being a total dork when it came to texts. It was cute, in a way. He put his phone back in his pocket without replying, at least for the moment, and stood up. He wasn’t sure where to go, but he felt lighter now. Less tense. Maybe some idea would come to him. He turned away from the stage, and let his feet lead him away from the park.

—-

Ashe slid her phone into her bag just as the bell rang. She’d finally sent a text to Markus, only to mess it up by accidentally ending on a question mark - so she’d sent another one. It was rushed, but it’d have to do for now. She definitely did not want to have to deal with getting her phone confiscated by her professor.

But it wasn’t Professor Dunstan that burst into the room. Instead, a tall redhead pushed the door open with a similar weight, a bulging set of folders tucked under one arm and a glove on his right hand - no, on second thought, that was most definitely not a glove. The other students started up whispering as they all noticed it, some wondering who he was and a few of the quicker ones already catching on.

He set his folders down on the teacher’s desk, and leaned casually against it, expression already a beaming smile. “Hello! I’m Kyr Fiyore, master engineer! Well, I will be, in five more years. I’m your assistant teacher.” He winked, but as most of the class was still staring, he shifted nervously. “You guys don’t have to worry, I’m ‘armless!” Still not a strong reaction, although this time there was some giggling. “…It’d be a lot funnier if I was missing my entire arm instead of just my hand.”

That finally clicked for everyone, or at least for Ashe, and the room was filled with still-scattered but much brighter and more earnest laughter. She could see why her fellow students thought he might be cute. He was certainly energetic, in an excited puppy kind of way, and younger than most of their other teachers.

He continued with his introduction, pacing back and forth at the front of the room. “Professor Dunstan thought it best if I introduce myself instead of waiting for him. To start us off, I’m going to just give you all a quick pop quiz! Nothing too strenuous, it’s just to help me get used to all of you.” He stopped and blinked as the students groaned, whispering their complaints to their peers. “Sorry, I meant a verbal pop quiz. Participation points only - hm, I guess it’s not really a quiz then. But here we are! Now then, who can tell me…”

Ashe still got out her notebook, deciding that it might be helpful to take review notes during the “quiz” anyway. At the least, it was easier to pay attention to Mister Fiyore than to Professor Dunstan - she kind of hoped that he would take over most of their classes for the rest of the year, and with Dunstan’s track record on absences, it seemed almost likely.

After a few questions to other students, he pointed at her, scanning the  seating chart at the same time. “Miss Garren, can you tell me what makes stereoisomers different from other isomers?”

She couldn’t think of the answer. Ashe flipped through her notebook, trying to find anything about isomers, but there was nothing she noticed right away. “I don’t think we learned that yet,” she muttered.

Mister Fiyore’s face fell, like he’d been hit. “Oh! I’m sorry, I thought - because I was assured all of you might as well be AP students, that is, um. I mean.” He paused, shook his head, and smiled again. “Sorry about that! Good to see you’re taking notes, though. Review sessions sometimes bring up new info, like this! You all might not have to know it, but since they’re really cool, I’m going to explain it anyways. Stereoisomers are when you have a molecule, same atoms and types of bonds, that’s somehow arranged differently from normal.” He turned to start drawing on the whiteboard.

Ashe tried to ignore her classmates focusing on her for a minute, especially since they hurriedly set about getting their own notebooks out. The rest of the class went by exceedingly quickly. Once the T.A. started talking, he was easy to listen to, and even though he jumped between topics sporadically he always made it clear what he was talking about.

The bell rang much too quickly. Ashe sighed as she put her notebook and pencil away, noting that about half the class was similarly hesitant to leave. As she passed his desk, Mister Fiyore stopped her.

“Sorry for calling your notes out like that, Miss Garren. Call it first class jitters.”

She nodded, a little surprised by the easy apology. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, unsure how to address him directly. “Thanks for teaching us something new.”

He grinned. “It’s what I’m here for, right? That reminds me, though…” He straightened and addressed the students that hadn’t left the room yet. “I’ll be starting a science club, meeting Tuesdays and Thursdays after classes here. If any of you are interested, feel free to show up. First meeting will be next week, once I’ve settled into being here a bit more. Have a good day, everyone!”

—

Gregor walked into his makeshift office - it was smaller than the other officers’, yes, but it was his and he had definitely earned it. He set his bag down on the desk, looked briefly over the papers that had been left for him, began fishing for a pen, and then finally stopped and stared at the person that appeared to have fallen asleep on his tiny red couch.

They were about his height, judging by the amount of space they took up, long blond hair tied twice in a ponytail and hanging off the edge of the cushions. They wore a maroon tank top and a pair of belts over a ruffled-looking indigo-blue skirt, and a small smile seemed to have settled upon their face.

“Um,” was all he managed before the stranger’s eyes peeked open, a calm hazel that didn’t seem even remotely surprised to see him.

“Hey.” They waved, still more or less unmoving. “What time is it?”

The detective glanced at his watch. “One-eighteen.”

“Good to know.” They swung their legs off the couch and stood in one smooth motion. As they did, he caught sight of their right leg, which had been tucked under their left as they slept. With the hard grey of metal and the not-quite-matching skin tone it was clearly prosthetic - judging from how they stood and the pair of flip-flops they wore, they seemed proud of it.

The stranger held out their hand, but didn’t quite look happy to do so as they finally introduced themself. “I’m Rowan Lariviere. I’m going to be interning here for the next few months. Captain Camberwell told me I’ll be working with you, Mr. Hartway.”

Gregor looked flustered for a moment before returning their introduction with his own and shaking the newcomer’s hand. “Detective Gregor Hartway, by the way. Nice to meet you. You can just call me Gregor - everyone else seems to. I heard something about an intern but I didn’t realize you’d be working with me… What’re you studying?”

“Forensic Science.” Obligatory social interaction complete, Rowan collapsed lazily back onto the couch. “She also said not to worry about any of the school stuff and that she’d handle all that.”

“That’s… a relief, I guess.” Gregor sat down, unsure if he should start on his paperwork or not. “But I don’t do much with forensics, so I don’t know why you’d be put with me.”

Rowan waved their hand, almost dismissing the question before apparently changing their mind and answering anyways. “First-hand knowledge of what can contaminate a scene. What I can expect to be preserved immediately and what might take a few hours to get to the lab. Also - ” they lowered their voice conspiratorially. “I, uh, overheard some other officers saying something about the Captain yelling a lot when she saw an incident report of yours? And that was right before I got assigned to you.”

“Oh.” Gregor tried not to look too surprised. “That’s fairly logical, then. Well, good to have you on with us, Rowan, and hopefully we can be a decent team.”

They smiled at him, expression genuine, but looking for the briefest moment as though something vicious lurked just beneath the surface. “I’m almost positive we will.” Their expression flickered into a mixture of awkwardness and aggression before amending, “I _am_ a ‘they’, by the way. Non-binary, so there’s no confusion on that front.”

Gregor blinked, startled for a moment. “Good to know. I was about to ask, actually, so thank you.”

Rowan seemed a little relieved upon hearing that. “So you’re not like some of the others here. Great!” They relaxed again. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help out while we’re here.”

“I will.” He settled back against the chair and flicked through a couple pages still settled on his desk. “Wanna help me with paperwork?”

—-

Markus had totally zoned out while walking around, and he didn’t realize he was in the Melinda Museum until he actually stood in the lobby. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, glancing around. There was still scaffolding along some of the walls, repairs in the process of being made, and where a bustling crowd would have once filled the space, instead it was left cold and empty. Broken displays and work-in-progress exhibits littered the space, a few with cloths draped over them so the pieces beneath were obscured. He turned away from them and headed for the closed doors that marked the gallery where they’d fought last night.

The doors were marked “Employees Only” but were - almost surprisingly - unlocked, so he slipped inside. Now that the corrupted spirit had been taken care of, the rest of the gallery was being set up. A few stands and cases were left empty, but most of the advertised pieces were already waiting behind clear glass.

Markus looked around, morbidly curious about this deadly collection. His expression of something nearing interest faded when he noticed Thog at the far end of the gallery and he tensed, expecting to get yelled at. The curator remained still, staring down at one of the cases. An elephant statuette sat there, crafted of black stone and seemingly wearing some kind of strange armor. Markus remembered the armadillo-like spirit they’d fought last night and shuddered, but curiosity got the better of him. “Everything alright?” he asked as he approached.

Thog jumped and turned quickly, tensing as if for a fight. When he realized it was Markus, he relaxed, if barely. “Yeah, I was just checking that everything was set up properly,” he drawled with an uncertain gaze.

“Looked more like you were zoning out,” Markus replied. “Is there a spirit in that thing?”

Thog shrugged. “More like potential. It’s nothing you need to worry about.” He suddenly glared at the blond man. “And what’re you doing here? Didn’t you see the sign?”

“I did, but figured I technically work for you, clearing up messes here at the museum - ”

Thog interrupted him with a harsh laugh. “Sure you do. And Kyl’il’s my contractor.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Really, though, why’re you here?”

“I don’t know, really,” Markus admitted, almost to his own surprise. “I just kind of… Wound up here.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Story of my life, lately.”

“Uh- _huh_. Can you ‘wind up’ in a bed? You look exhausted.”

Markus hid his shock with a grin. Did he really look that bad? “I’m surprised that you care.”

“I don’t, but tired Guardians means fights that last longer than they have to. You all might not leave damage, but spirits definitely do. I’m spending enough on construction right now, I don’t need more.” Thog’s glare returned, as strong as ever.

Markus couldn’t argue with that. He shrugged. “I’ve got a place to stay.”

“But no bed. What about - ” Markus’ stomach growled loudly, and the curator rolled his eyes. “Nevermind. Come with me.” For a moment it seemed like he was going to grab Markus by the wrist - or the collar - but instead he headed straight out of the gallery with a strong stride. Then, taking a sharp right instead of going to the lobby, he slid open another “Employees Only” door, and led Markus through the back of the museum to the basement.

“Where are we going?” Markus asked after a minute, as they passed through a small kitchenette and into a short hallway lined with what looked - at first glance - like offices.

“Here.” Thog nudged one of the doors open. Inside was a bare-bones room, carpeted and with a cot and set of drawers, but not much else. “If you wanna go traipsing through employee areas, then you can earn it. Board comes out of your pay, but it’s pretty cheap considering it’s _technically_ a public space. You have full use of the kitchen area, and the lounge at the other end of the hall. Join the community center down the road and take a damn shower.”

Markus was stunned. He stepped into the room and turned around, confused but light again, less worried - almost giddy. “Really?”

“Yeah, but you’ll have to actually work. This isn’t just for spirit bullshit,” Thog told him, arms crossed and expression pointed. “You’ll do some heavy lifting, and cleaning, and maybe even help answer patron questions. The minute you stop earning your pay, you’re out.” He held his hand out. “Deal?”

Was there really a choice here? “Y - yeah. Deal.” He shook Thog’s hand, and, the second the curator left the small space, collapsed onto the cot. He dropped his half-filled backpack next to him as he just drank it all in. Thog was helping him out, in a major way. All of them were. He didn’t deserve their trust, not after what he’d done.

His phone chimed that it had a low battery. Markus scrambled to get his charger out of his bag. Once it was plugged in, he looked at his messages again. Nothing new, but definitely something important. On a whim, he replied to Ashe. His finger hovered over the screen for a moment before finally pressing send.

_I’m sorry, too. I’ll try doing better._


	3. Jinx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a mishap with a job, everything seems to go wrong - but only in the slightest way. Now it’s a treasure hunt to get things back to normal.

Thog’s office was far more crowded than normal - which, in this case, simply meant there was more than one person in it. Thankfully, this guest had been invited, unlike a certain Devil Thief that somehow missed the bed Thog gave him and was snoring loudly on the couch in the living room downstairs. Though, like most of his guests nowadays, this one was downright weird, even if Thog knew deep down that he could trust him.

He _still_ creeped Thog the hell out with that voice.

“Rat! How nice of you to drop by.” Something slid into his voice that sounded ever so slightly like sarcasm, but if Rat noticed, he chose not to comment.

“Why _yeeees_ , I was, as you say, in the neighborhood and I thought you might like to see my wares for today. Starting to run out of storage space, sad to say.”

Thog shrugged. “Sure, you’ve rarely steered me wrong… except with the jade tiger… and a couple of those paintings… ah fuck it, lemme see what you got.” Much as he wanted to say more, Thog bit his tongue. He couldn’t risk losing Rat as a supplier; the masked man was great at tracking down spirits, even if he didn’t _quite_ know what they were.

Rat giggled - or even cackled - and Thog distinctly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He tried to ignore it, and looked calm again by the time Rat had unpacked several briefcases and bags full of oddities; sculptures, drawings, even a couple containers of paint supplies. He carefully placed the items on Thog’s already-cluttered desk.

“Not many large things with that… strangeness that you like so much, but all _these_ do.” The masked man gestured to the objects on the table. “And I’ve saved the best for last!”

He dug around in his sack, until his hand poked out from the bottom.

“Ooooooh dammit, I lost it!” Rat hissed. “And that was the strongest one!”

“What was it?” Thog said, leaning forward off of the wall, forcing himself not to be impatient. If there was a strong spirit loose… He grit his teeth. “What’d you have, Rat?”

Rat twitched slightly more violently than usual. “It - It was a deck of tarot cards, but oooooh, you could feel the power _thrumming_ in your hands.”

_Shit_. He found himself absentmindedly running one hand along a silver bracelet. _Not good._ “Don’t worry, Rat, I’ll get some people to help you look for it,” Thog said, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“You’ve finally picked up some help, hm?”

The curator shrugged. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, I was just curious as to who it was? They must be very special indeed, for you to trust them around your _collection_.’

Thog rubbed one of his bracelets again, then quickly stopped as he realized he was doing it. “Something like that. They’ve helped a lot. I think they can help find this deck. Give me a moment to get them, and then we can talk prices on the rest of this stuff.” He stepped around Rat to the door of his office and called outside. “Markus! Go find Gregor and Ashe, I’ve got a job for you all.”

Rat tilted his head, still smiling. “And finding a missing artifact - especially something like this - might not be an easy job.”

The curator shrugged, mouth pressed hard into a line. “Well,” he slid back against the wall, “they’re the best I’ve got.”

—

“Markus, I swear on your life, I’ll bring out my whip if you don’t give me back my notebook!”

“I give it back to you, and this is how you repay me?” He smirked. Ashe tried jumping again, but Markus was taller, easily leaning away to keep his arm holding the notebook straight up in the air and out of her grasp.

“Ooooh, Ashe, I didn’t know you li -  ” Before Markus could finish what he was saying, Ashe climbed onto her desk chair and latched onto Markus’ arm. His high-pitched scream made her burst out laughing, although she kept hold of him, one hand free to grab for her notebook.

“MARKUS!”

“AAAAAASHE!”

“Kels?”

Markus and Ashe paused in their struggle to turn to the door.

“Kelly?” Eileen said again, voice dulled by the wood. “Everything okay in there?”

Ashe scrambled off of Markus, jumping into her desk chair as Markus flung himself on her bed.

“Um, yeah, you can come in!” Ashe called out, straightening out her clothes.

The door opened and Eileen took a step into the room, but stopped once she saw Markus. She tilted her face to the side in confusion.

“Kels… Who’s he?” Her brow furrowed slightly. “He looks like - ”

“Oh, how rude of me to not introduce myself!” Markus sprung from the bed and was before Eileen in an instant, his hand out for a handshake and usual charming smile on his face. “My name’s Markus - Markus Velafi. I was just acting as messenger for a mutual friend. _Kelly_ is needed at the museum.”

Eileen shook Markus’ hand as Ashe tried to hide her interest in what Markus said. He certainly hadn’t mentioned anything like that - when she’d walked into her room, he was already there, looking through her notebooks, and it devolved from there.

Eileen nodded, looking a bit less confused. “Ah, I’m not surprised.” She looked past Markus to smile at Ashe. “At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bed there, or your own wing.”

Both Ashe and Markus laughed a bit, glancing to each other. Ashe took the initiative of standing up and slipping on her shoes.

“Well then, we better get going. Don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Markus nodded, but turned back to Eileen. “And now I must say _adieu_ , my dear.”

Ashe grabbed Markus’ arm before he could even think about reaching to kiss Eileen’s hand. Giving each of them no chance to continue their talk, Ashe dragged Markus out the door, smiling ever so slightly at how easy it was to do. It was only once they were on the other side of the hall, and past the R.A.’s office, that she let Markus’ sleeve out of her grip. His hand snapped back as they started walking side by side out of the dorms.

“Do you have to flirt with _every_ woman?” Ashe asked as they descended the first set of stairs.

Markus snickered, waving her off. “Please, I flirt with anyone who is willing, I have no limits. In faaaact - hey, wha - _you don’t even have the spray bottle!_ ”

Ashe shrugged and pointed to the water fountain beside her with her dry hand. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Markus sighed and wiped his glasses clean of the water. “Come on, I want to make sure Hedwig got Gregor like I asked her to.”

“Dont.”

“Don’t what? Come on, Ashe, I thought you promised to start trusting me more.”

“No, I mean her name is Dont.”

“Oh… right. Well, let’s just go.”

“We’re walking? I would’ve worn sneakers if I’d known that.”

Markus smirked and jingled a pair of keys. “Nope, we’re taking my motorcycle.”

Ashe could practically feel the blood drain from her face. “I… I’m fine walking actually.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m an excellent driver!” He wrapped an arm around Ashe’s shoulders and together they walked out the front door.

—

The group met in the museum, Dont absentmindedly circling around Gregor’s shoulders as Markus and Ashe walked in. Dont paused as she heard the sound of the door being opened, and a second later her eyes lit up as she made a beeline for Ashe, nuzzling her neck. Ashe giggled while Markus visibly resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Gregor cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “You said Thog has work for us, Markus? Did a spirit arrive or something?”

Markus shook his head. “Much creepier.” He’d only gotten a brief glimpse of the curator’s guest, but his strangeness had been clear. “Just… c’mon.” He led them through the back hallways, down to the employee lounge and offices.

Thog and Rat were still talking, although the curator looked close to losing his temper. Even as the three Guardians lingered in the hallway, waiting for his approval to enter, Thog was braced against his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose as if to fend off a headache. “For the last time,” he growled, “if it’s not something you can give me some sort of legit sourcing on, I can’t buy it with museum money, so you’re going to have to drop your price.”

“But these _need_ to be kept as a set, they’re practically screaming for it!” Rat answered, his voice pitching up but somehow not sounding questioning. He gestured to the set of ornately etched bottles on Thog’s desk. “I found them together and pack them together, yes, because otherwise they seem very distressed. See, even if I just do this…” He moved one of the bottles to the other side of the desk.

Thog stiffened, and Dont flinched against Ashe’s shoulder. “You okay?” Ashe whispered.

Dont nodded. “Yes, just… There’s a spirit in those. Not - not corrupted, but it might be, if it goes through the stress of being separated. It’s odd, that it’s in all of those evenly. It has to be treated with care and kindness, otherwise it might start giving humans near it anxiety, because it wants to be whole.”

“But it’s okay for now, right?” Gregor prompted.

“Yes. Just a bit of energy in it, really, barely a wisp of life.”

“That’s something, at least. We won’t have to fight it,” Markus said.

Thog looked up, gaze catching on the group over Rat’s shoulder, and relaxed slightly. “There you are. Get your asses in here and meet Rat, my…” He frowned, usual confident tone trailing off.

“ _Supplier_ ,” Rat finished with an ever-present smile, as if relishing the term. “Special items come into my care, and Dan always has been interested in them, so I try to bring them around as often as possible. It’s quite lucrative for both of us.”

Markus nodded, picking up the etched bottle that Rat had moved away from the rest. “Seems so, if you can find these. These patterns must’ve been hard to make.” He turned it over in his hands as he considered the merchant. “That’s a nice mask, too. Is it a custom order sort of thing?”

Ashe glared at Markus, ready to ask him what he thought he was doing, but Rat was now caught up in explaining his wardrobe. When the merchant looked away to show off the hemming of his jacket, Markus set the first bottle down with the other six of its set. _A distraction. Just so he wouldn’t be told off for touching the merch,_ she thought. It was easy to forget that he was competent, even if his dramatic attitude took away from that sometimes.

“All this is besides the point,” Thog finally interrupted, cutting Rat off. “Said point _being_ that Rat lost an item that should be especially interesting, and you three are going to help him find it.”

Gregor kept his eyes focused on Rat. “What kind of item?”

“Oh, just a small thing. A set of tarot cards - but not like any you usually see. They don’t have the Arcana or anything, oh no, they seem to use much more vague titles. I glanced through the deck when I picked it up, and it practically _sang_ how unique it was at me!” He giggled at the memory, tapping his fingertips together. “But, ah, I lost it on my way here. I think nearby, because I definitely checked everything before crossing the Art District and had it with me.”

“Where should we start looking?” Ashe asked. She was eager to get going, both because Rat set her nerves on edge - in personality, the distant memories of Halloween and haunted masks coming to mind - and because she was worried about anyone stumbling on the cards. If they did have a spirit in them, who knew what havoc it could cause?

—

Markus took the motorcycle alone this time, with Gregor and Ashe walking behind.

“Still can’t believe he has one of those,” Ashe grumbled as they crossed the street. “Or that he can use it competently.”

Gregor glanced down at her. “Really? Seems fitting to me. Or at least better than a car.”

“Yeah, but he’s…” Ashe gestured awkwardly, as if trying to outline their absent teammate. “He’s a hipster, basically. I would expect a moped. Or something dramatically dorky like a scooter.”

Gregor paused for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You know what? You’re right. You are completely right.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, broken only by a couple of people that recognized Gregor and called out greetings to him. They caught up to Markus at the park entrance, leaning against the fence separating the main area from the parking lot while he waited for them. The three of them walked in together, almost as if they each expected spirit trouble right away.

“So he lost it here?” Ashe asked aloud, looking around.

Markus nodded, crossing his arms. “Yep, lost it here… In the park… In literally one of the worst places he could’ve lost it.”

“At least it’s a small park,” Gregor said, scanning the ground.

“But it’s a _park_. Busy and full of kids that like to pick up whatever they see on the ground. It could be in someone’s house by now!”

“Well let’s split up and see if it is still here,” the detective said, already walking along a dirt path.

“But what if it isn’t?” Markus asked, getting no reply. He frowned, his companions since wandered off in their search. He sighed, and then headed in his own direction.

“You said you’d be more cooperative, Markus,” he muttered under his breath. “So just… deal with having to search this entire damn park for a little packet of cards.”

After nearly an hour of combing the park - field, playground and all - Ashe sighed, and collapsed onto a bench. She kept her gaze wandering around for any sign of her companions, should they have finished their searches as well.

“Guess Markus was right… for once,” she thought to herself as she absentmindedly watched the other park-goers pass by. “A very dangerous deck of cards, and no one here knows about it. This area’s generally safe, so a kid might be here on their own, or even an animal might’ve taken off with it, if it’s colorful enough. Hell, if Aeva was here she would totally pick something like that up, so it’s not just little kids that could wind up with it. Or an adult might’ve thought it was trash - or maybe…”

Ashe sprung out of her seat. _There are a ton of people in the park - maybe someone’s seen the deck, or even who took it!_

She smiled, and headed out towards the picnic pavilion, where several people were playing games or eating lunch. Picking a table at random, she walked over to a group of four younger men playing some game with their own - thankfully generic - deck of cards.

“Excuse me?” All four of them looked up from their game. “Sorry to bother you, but did any of you see a purple deck of cards here? My friend lost it earlier today.”

The man with long blond hair - and reminding her distantly of Markus - spoke up first. “No, I don’t think I saw anyone with anything like that.”

Ashe tried to keep her heart up as she explained further. “It wasn’t a normal deck of cards, it was a tarot deck and my friend really needs it.”

One of the other men - the one with black hair - spoke up. “Have you checked the lost and found?”

“I - no, I haven’t.”

The black-haired man just smiled. “Well, that’ll probably be your best bet.”

Ashe nodded. “Right, well, thank you for your help anyway!”

She headed back towards the front of the park, where the restrooms, drinking fountain, and lost and found were. _Why didn’t I think of it before?_ It was a park full of little kids - whoever found it probably decided it was some kid’s toy and dropped it off there. If not, they could always check the pawn shop on Evans - maybe someone like Markus found it and tried to make a quick buck.

For once, her adventure seemed to be going more smoothly than before

—

The lost and found was nothing more than a small, hexagonal kiosk with a window on one side and cork boards on the other five for posting bulletins and advertisements. There were several posters for lost pets and music lessons; one still advertising for the since-finished _Phantom of the Opera_ ; one for the Battle of the Bands in a couple of months, next to a few advertisements for local bands and their gigs; some requests from an out-of-town company for antiques, which was odd to see but also mostly ignored, judging by how other flyers had been placed over them; and a very large poster from one Ballast McGee seeking information on the ‘explosion’ at the museum.

A long line had already formed at the kiosk by the time Ashe finally found it. She was about to get in the back when the distinct blond hair of one of her companions caught her eye near the front of the line. She ignored the complaints of one of the mothers in line as she walked up to stand by them.

Markus smirked when he noticed Ashe. “You finally spotted us, huh?”

She scoffed. “Says the person who didn’t give me any indication that they were here.”

Gregor rolled his eyes. “ _Someone_ used all his battery life filming one of the moms arguing with the poor worker.”

“Hey, _Sharon_ will thank me when she becomes YouTube famous in a couple of days. And you didn’t even bring yours!”

“It’s charging.” He gave Markus a nudge to step forward as the line moved along, somewhat faster than Ashe expected, with the exception of a mother being rude and holding up the line for far longer than necessary. They reached the window within five minutes of Ashe getting into line.

The bored park trooper didn’t even look at them, head resting in her hand. “What can I help you with?”

Gregor spoke first. “We’re looking for a tarot deck that’s purple.”

The trooper nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” She turned around, rifling through the shelves that surrounded her. When she turned back around, she was holding a pair of playing card decks with purple designs.

“Those are all the complete decks I could find.” She placed them on the small counter along with a few dark purple cards, the edges of which all glittered gold. “And I could only find these three cards.”

Markus picked up the first card. On the front was an old woman in front of a cauldron, with little hearts floating up from the mysterious - and pink - brew within. On the bottom were the words “ _The Matchmaker_ ”.

“Yeah, this looks like what we need,” he said. “Are you sure there aren’t more?”

The woman shook her head. “No, sorry. Try coming back tomorrow. Someone may have found the others and left them here.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” Gregor said as he picked up another card. Ashe grabbed the last card and they all walked away, the sounds of children screaming and playing fading as they headed for the edge of the park.

The detective looked over his card as they did so, trying to make something out of the seemingly random swirls and symbols the gold made on the card. He flipped it over, the front of his depicted a woman smiling and holding hands with a kid. On the bottom were two words, which he quietly read aloud, albeit absentmindedly “ _The Mother_ ”.  He was about to slip it in his pocket, when the card glimmered briefly and golden words appeared seemingly hovering over the picture. He gasped, stopping in his tracks and forcing the other two to stop as well.

“Gregor, what is it?” Ashe asked, immediately looking to where he was.

“I… I don’t know. There’s words with my card that weren’t there before!”

Ashe looked closer at his card. “I don’t see any, besides ‘The Mother’.”

The detective turned it over, narrowing his eyes as the words remained. “They’re still there.”

He almost jumped when Markus’ shadow loomed over the card, the lettering not losing their shimmer.

“Maybe you should read it?” He suggested, with a raised eyebrow and half-smirk of interest.

Gregor looked at him, before holding the card closer. His voice came low but confident.

“ _I nurture all those around me._  
The gentle hand guiding those younger.  
Sworn to protect and teach.  
I am caring, tender, loving.”

There was a sudden pop behind him - this time he did jump and turned around at the sound of quacking behind him. Five fuzzy ducklings that weren’t there before stared up at Gregor like he was their world. They quacked cutely.

“They… they could’ve been there before, right?” Gregor asked, a hopeful tone in his voice of the chance he didn’t just magic ducklings from nothing.

Ashe shook her head. “No, I don’t think I’ve seen a duck since I passed the pond.”

“Hmmm…” He looked at his card, then back at the ducks. “But why did this make the ducks appear?”

He absentmindedly started pacing, examining his card, unaware of the ducklings following his every footstep. Ashe and Markus looked on in confusion and amusement.

“Now you’re really the mother hen of the group,” Markus said, holding back laughter.

Gregor tore his gaze from the card to look down at the ducks. “Wha - ? Oh no, you can’t follow me! Shoo!” He waved his hands at the ducks, but they didn’t move, staring at him as if in wonder and quacking softly.

Ashe couldn’t help but giggle a bit at Gregor talking to the ducks like they could understand him. She was so focused on his problem she barely noticed Markus slip his card out.

“Now, let’s see what ‘The Matchmaker’ will give me,” Markus said, grinning.

“Is that really the best thing to do, Markus?” Ashe asked, pointing to the ducks. “We have no idea what it could do.”

“But it wouldn’t be right for the newbie to be the only one affected by these cards.”

“Gregor’s more experienced, and besides, with mag - ” Ashe started, but he ignored her and read the golden words that appeared before him out loud.

_“I am the one that brings love_  
To the loveless.  
I am Cupid’s arrow,  
Relentless in my quest.”

The three waited for something to happen, but nothing did. “Well that’s disappointing,” Markus grumbled as he pocketed his card. He shrugged at Ashe and then looked at Gregor, who had picked up one of the ducklings. “Then again, maybe not…”

“What? It looked cold,” Gregor said, somewhat sheepishly. One of the others quacked indignantly. He blinked at it. “You’ll get your turn, so hush.”

Markus and Ashe glanced at each other again and smirked, Markus’ growing into a grin the longer they stared.

“Have you… done something with your hair?” he asked, still looking at her with… some kind of expression Ashe couldn’t quite place.

She raised her hand to her red puff of hair, self-conscious for a second. “No? Does it look weird?”

Markus shook his head. “Not at all, but I just thought it frames your face very nicely. It’s cute? I think.”

Maybe she should’ve brought the spray bottle. Still, at least Markus seemed slightly confused as well. “Whatever, weirdo.” Ashe teased, before picking up her card. On the front was a pair of eyes with a rainbow for the iris. The more she stared at it, the more the thought she saw the colors moving in front of her - like one of those hologram cards she played with when she was younger. On the bottom was the words “ _The Eyes”_. Golden words appeared in front of her and she read them aloud.

_“I am the windows to the Soul._  
Look at me, and see my thoughts,  
Feelings, emotions.  
Nothing is secret.”

Again, the three waited.

“Let’s just go home and figure this out later.” Ashe turned on her heels, but a hand on her arm made her stop.

Before she could say something, the hand pulled her back, causing her to stumble into Markus’ other arm, which was already out like he had arranged the whole thing. She found herself staring up at Markus’ grinning face. “The hell are you doing?” she said, _really_ wishing she had brought the spray bottle with her.

“I just realized I don’t spend enough time admiring your beauty. I really need to correct that. Especially since your eyes are more gorgeous than the most crimson of sunsets - ”

“‘Crimson’?” Ashe bit back her anger at that. What was going on? She shoved Markus away and stood up properly, looking at Gregor. “Hey, are my eyes different?”

He stepped closer. “They are, actually. They’re… Oh, that is very weird. They just turned yellow, even though you’re not transformed right now.”

“Oh. Oh no.” Understanding hit her. “These cards’re cursed, or something!”

Gregor looked at the duckling in his arms, and the rest clustered around his feet. “…That would explain it.”

Markus seemed unconcerned, his focus still on her. “Have I mentioned that I really think you’re clever today?”

Ashe glared at him. “Let’s just… Let’s go back to the museum and talk to Dont and Thog. Maybe visit Kyl’il. One of them has to have a way to use these to find the rest, right?”

She tried to stand up straight, but Markus tightened his grip on her waist just a bit.

“I could give you a ride of my motorcycle, if you want?” he said with a wink.

Ashe stared at him, eyes shifting to a light green. “You know what, I just want to get there quick, so sure.”

Markus grinned and helped Ashe stand up, a hand still on her waist. “Great, maybe we can even stop for coffee on the way, I know there’s a - “  
  
“I said I want to get back _quickly_ ,” Ashe cut him off.

Gregor looked a little nervous, maybe even distrusting, of Markus. “Are you sure?” he asked Ashe.

She shrugged. “We’ll be fine,” she insisted. “You just worry about keeping those guys safe.” She indicated the small flock around his feet. “Don’t want you all worked up over some magic ducks.”

The detective looked down, smiling sheepishly. Ashe was right, he would feel incredibly guilty if something happened to one of these birds, even though they were just some kind of construct. Probably. Hopefully not actual, real ducklings. “Okay. You two be safe, then, and I’ll see you at the museum.”

Markus feigned a hurt look. “I’d never do anything to hurt Ashe… Well, now anyways,” he mumbled, seeing her glare. It didn’t last long though, a captivated smile crossing his face as he stared at her. He led her to his motorcycle, parked on the side of the road. He sat down before gesturing for her to sit behind him. She hesitated, sensing a tension that wasn’t there when she last rode with him, but she really didn’t want to walk all the way back to the museum. She wanted answers, now, and the motorcycle was the best option, so she sat down behind him.

Markus looked behind, passing his helmet back to her.

“You better put this on.”

Ashe took the helmet, a bit unsure. “Don’t you need it?”

He smiled his usual charming smile. “I’ve been riding her for a while, I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t want to get you hurt.”

Before she had the time to argue, he turned back and revved the engine. The loud sound and sudden rumble of the motor coming to life made her jump, grabbing onto to Markus.

“Hang on tight!” he yelled over the engine.

The ride only took a few minutes, but Ashe was still thankful to be on solid ground again. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like Markus had been showboating, weaving through traffic and taking turns a little too narrowly. She didn’t wait for him, marching straight towards Thog’s office.

“You could’ve told us these cards were cursed!”

He was looking over some paperwork, with Rat nowhere to be seen. So at least they didn’t have to deal with _him_ at the moment. “I would think ‘this guy supplies most of my stuff’ would’ve made you all cautious,” he deadpanned.

Ashe slammed her hands down on his desk. “Well, we only found a few of the cards, and we still wound up with issues!”

He looked up at her, only to pause, staring. “Your eyes haven’t always been red, have they?”

Before she could even try to explain, Markus strode into the room. “Aesling, that’s really not fair, leaving me all alone,” he whined. “You could’ve at least let me come open the doors for you.”

Thog’s eyebrow quirked up. “I think I get it now.” He stood on his chair and touched the overhead light, the room suddenly humming with energy. “Lantern Flame, guide of the lost, bearer of hope, I call for your aid.”

The recitation quieted Ashe and Markus, both of them looking up as the bulb brightened. “Patient Thog, you really do not have to use that prayer,” Kyl’il’s voice said, ringing from the ceiling light.

He shrugged. “I figure using some of the old ways is the best way to get your attention. Anyways, these two - these three,” he said, nodding in slightly confused acknowledgement as Gregor finally arrived, ducklings still clustered around his feet, “Have some issues that I think you’re better off explaining.”

There was a pause. “Is this about the merchant, and the lost item young Dont came to tell me about?”

“Yeah,” Ashe said, before explaining what had happened since they left the museum.

It took Kyl’il another moment to speak once Ashe was done. “You - you’re telling me that the merchant was going to bring you the _Disaster Deck?_ ” For once, an emotion besides motherly encouragement had crept into her voice. Ashe wasn’t sure if it was shock, amusement, or both. “The only way I’ve ever heard to reverse these effects is to return your cards to the rest. Only once the deck is complete again will you go back to normal. This item doesn’t appear often, but there should be some records of it. I will have more information for all of you soon.” The light dimmed, and the strange sense that had creeped into the room disappeared.

Silence once more, as if they all waited for her to return her attention to them. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?!” Ashe exclaimed, her annoyance rising.

“Well, I found this,” Thog handed his phone to Ashe.

She read what was on the screen. “Black is stressed, red is fear, yellow is nervous… is this a mood ring decoder?”

Thog nodded as Ashe glared with pitch-black eyes.

“We’ll just have to keep on looking for the deck,” Gregor said, ignoring the other two. “And hope it shows up soon.”

“And in the meantime, Ashe and I can work as a team,” Markus added.

She glared at him. “No. We need to cover as much as ground as possible, so you go… Go do your own thing, until this is resolved. Right?” She looked between Thog and Gregor, hoping for backup from one of them.

“It would make the most sense.” Gregor kneeled to pet each of the ducklings at his feet. “It’s just going to be troublesome in the meantime, with your classes and my work. Maybe you should find a pair of sunglasses.”

Thog grabbed his phone back from Ashe. “Also in the meantime, you all should get the hell out of my office. _Some_ of us are still dealing with the fallout from your previous adventures and have way too many phone calls to make.” He ushered them out, before finally closing the door in their faces.

—

Finding a pair of sunglasses was easier said than done. She had to go digging in her room for a pair that wasn’t flashy and that fit her. Dont had helped the best she could, but she was tired after staying up late, talking to Kyl’il.

At the last second, she found a pair. She put them on just as her black eyes faded to light blue, what she assumed was “normal” for a mood ring.

Glasses firmly on her face, she grabbed her bag and flew out the door.

She made it through her first three classes relatively okay, none of her teachers questioning her glasses. However, when she went to grab her math notebook, she found a heart shaped note tucked in the pages, with an original sonnet written out and signed by Markus. She found herself blushing the entire period.

The bell rang for the end of her science period. She was inches from the hallway, one hand already resting on the doorframe, when Mr. Fiyore’s voice sounded behind her. “Miss Garren.” Slowly she turned, the remainder of her classmates shuffling past her, until they were the only two remaining in the room. He leaned on his desk, looking almost nonchalant, and seemed to think for a moment of exactly what to say.

“I figure you have your reasons, but I’d like to ask…” He tapped the frames of his glasses. “What’s with those?”

She held her hand to the sunglasses on her face, sliding them back up her nose as if worried he’d seen what was behind them. An excuse - and she’d thought up one, even if at first she was unsure if she’d need it - slipped easily from her lips. “Oh. I’m sorry, I woke up with a bad migraine this morning. I didn’t want to skip class, but all the lights have been making it worse.”

“Oh!” He visibly relaxed. “Yeah, it’s pretty sunny out for so late in the month. Have you been to the nurse, or gotten some aspirin?”

Ashe nodded.

“Alright, then. Sorry to bother you, Kelly.”

She nodded, again, and then ducked into the now nearly-empty hall. _Mr. Fiyore was the only one to ask about my sunglasses today,_ she mused _. He sounded kind of… nervous about it. What, did he think I was hungover or something?_

—

Gregor slowly opened his eyes, no longer able to sleep with the incessant sound of duckling quacks. He looked to his clock - it was only an hour earlier than his alarm was set for. _Small blessings,_ he thought as he got to his feet. His new companions were huddled together near his bedside table. They seemed focused on each other - or at least they were until he started walking away. Then they jumped to and ran after him, their feet sliding a bit on the hardwood floor.

“You all need to slow down,” he said once they reached the kitchen. “Or else I might trip over you.” He wasn’t really sure why he kept talking to them, but it helped. Made this seem slightly more normal, more like he could deal with it without too much trouble.

He had looked up how to take care of them, at least for now. Even if they were magic, he didn’t want any of them to starve. So he made some scrambled eggs - it seemed weird to him, but it had been suggested by a few websites - and chopped them finely and threw them into an old mixing bowl with some shredded lettuce, then set it down for the ducklings to eat out of. He knew he could buy duck food at some pet store, or at the edge of the city in the groceries designed more for farmers. But if he tried to leave the ducks in a room they just appeared next to him a minute later - as if by magic -  and he didn’t dare try to go into a store with them. Dogs and cats were one thing, but he had never seen anyone carrying fowl into a pet store.

The one place he couldn’t avoid today was work, however. So once he’d had his own breakfast he set out with his mini-parade of baby birds, thinking he needed to figure out a harness or something so that they wouldn’t get trampled by someone else in the street.

Azura was waiting outside her office when the elevator brought Gregor to their floor. The familiar folder with his report about the Phantom Thieves’ case was in her hand. Gregor braced himself for a reprimand, but instead she gaped at him.

“Something wrong, Captain?” he asked nervously.

She looked at him, at the ducklings at his feet, back to him. “You know what? I haven’t had enough coffee for this. Come see me when those things are gone.”

“Yes’m.” He didn’t even try to explain, even as more of his coworkers noticed and started whispering. It almost felt like high school again, with rumors and gossip flying. He ignored it, knowing he couldn’t explain, and headed to his office.

As he entered, Rowan’s gaze followed the squad of chicks following cheerfully on Gregor’s heels. They raised an eyebrow for a long moment and, when it seemed no explanation would be coming, finally asked, “So, what’s with the birds?”

“It’s… a bit of a long story.” He slid into his desk’s chair, doing his best to ignore the elated chirping coming from beneath him.

“Hm.” The blond looked him up and down, only for their face to light up with a bright smile. “Know where to rent a fryer? We could host a cook-out for the department…”

Gregor simply _stared_ , mouth nearly agape.

They laughed and rolled their eyes. “I was kidding, c'mon. _Tu es pas de fun_.”

The detective’s former expression of shock quickly shifted to one of confusion. “What?”

“’ _Tu es pas de fun_.’ It means ‘you’re no fun’.”

“You speak French?”

“ _Québécois_ , yes.” Rowan eyed a chicklet that had been brave enough to approach their couch, and gently nudged it away with the toe of their prosthetic. “I lived just outside Quebec before moving to Braeden in middle school.”

“And you decided to stay for college?” The chick peeped assertively, then scuttled back over to join its companions.

“My family moved back home, but I like the quiet here. Good forensics program, reasonable tuition.” They shrugged. “If I ever say something you don’t understand, feel free to ask. It’s second nature.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Gregor scribbled something onto the sheet on his desk. “You don’t seem like the kind to like the quiet that much.”

Rowan laughed. “Yeah, well, once awhile you face too much loud. Get away from your friends, the unfamiliarity, and just relax for a bit. Everyone needs to take a break _sometimes_.”

“Sounds nice.”

They looked at him again. “Yeah, when _ton chum_ is _ton emploi_ , sometimes you gotta get away.”

Gregor blinked.

“Ah, when you’re married to your job, basically. I’m sure you know how _that_ feels.”

“What do you mean?”

The blond rolled their eyes and sat up, gesturing to him with one hand. “Do you ever take a day off? Or have a break? You’re always here and always working.”

“Because I have work to do.”

Rowan frowned, then slid off the couch and stepped up to the desk. “Look, _I_ can do work too, y'know. Go take the day off or something. Those chicks are going to drive me crazy anyway.”

Gregor looked between them and the paperwork on the desk. “I… alright, sure. I’ll set aside some stuff. Thanks, Rowan.”

“No problem, _mon ami_.” They smiled. “See, I’m going to start doing that just to bug you, now.”

The detective laughed. “I’ll have to get a French-to-English dictionary or something, then.”

Their smiled seemed a bit more solemn, if only for a moment. “I had a friend who spent a _year_ taking French classes to understand something I’d written… Only to realize he’d learned European French the whole time and could only get maybe half of it.”

Gregor chuckled. As he stood up from the desk, Rowan added, “One last thing. That museum, from the Phantom Thieves’ case - where is it? I’ve only been to the art district once or twice and I’d like to check it out later.”

“Go south on Main from here, you can’t miss it.” He tilted his head slightly. “Although it’s closed at the moment as the curator is still working on the repairs.”

“Maybe you could show me around sometime, then.” They smiled at him. “A VIP tour.”

“Sometime, sure.” Gregor adjusted his hat, and took a few steps, careful to avoid the chicks scurrying around his feet. “Thanks again, Rowan.”

Rowan leapt across the desk, nearly knocking the nameplate over when their leg didn’t reach quite high enough. “Like I said, no problem.”

—

Ashe strode into the room, sunglasses low over her face and eyebrows furrowed in apparent pain. “We need to fix this _immediately_ or someone is going to get hurt. And by someone I mean either me or Markus.”

Gregor was on the couch, chicks assembled around him as he held a book open. He looked at her, and a moment later, Markus appeared from the staircase.

“Markus got pulled off campus by _security_ this afternoon for reciting sonnets outside my window, which didn’t stop him from leaving a bouquet of roses in my room.” The blond smiled at her. “And Dont, who was - and still is - mysteriously missing after I left her on guard.”

“I told you she’s out.”

“And I don’t believe you!” She frowned. “But at least she wasn’t in my closet this time.” Ashe glanced at Gregor. “I did teach him a trick, though.”

Gregor, wordlessly, raised an eyebrow.

She held out one hand. Almost immediately, Markus placed a heart-shaped chocolate into it, which she pulled to her mouth and took an angry bite of. “I don’t even want to know where he gets all this stuff.”

“He spent all night rushing around preparing a bunch of things,” Thog said from the stairs. He looked annoyed, and exhausted. He had a coffee pot in his hands - not a mug or a paper cup, but literally a half-full coffee pot. “Running in and out, keeping me awake, and I can’t nap because the contractors are here doing repairs.”

“Don’t you have like, a house?” Gregor asked.

“It’s getting fumigated,” he replied, glare deepening.

“At least I’m not the only one annoyed by this, then,” Ashe said.

Thog rolled his eyes. “Look, I talked to Kyl’il and she said that the magic or spirit in those should call to the rest of the set. You should find it within a week, just on that merit. Less if you keep trying to seek it out.”

“That long?” Ashe bit her lip. There was no way she could manage the migraine excuse for an entire week.

Gregor, however, was focused on something else. “Couldn’t Kyl’il just appear here and tell us that herself? Like when she showed up after Dont gave us our transformations.”

Thog didn’t answer right away, instead taking a long drink of coffee. “It takes a lot of energy, and she can’t watch everything while she’s manifesting,” he admitted. “Kyl’il might be able to go anywhere in Braeden, but if she can just use messengers, that seems to work out better. I think she’s still on edge because of the witch’s appearance.”

Markus, for the first time all day, turned away from Ashe. He seemed almost guilty for a moment. “I don’t blame her,” he mumbled.

Gregor and Ashe shared a look. “I guess that makes sense,” Gregor said, almost wishing he’d asked at a better time. “So we just have to wait, then.”

“And deal with this as best we can,” Ashe added. Something about what Thog said didn’t feel right to her, but she chose not to question it. She guessed he might sidestep any further questions, and besides, she didn’t want to make Markus feel worse. “I guess we’ll just keep looking with as much free time as we have, right?”

—

The rain pounded hard on the library’s windows, making the atmosphere inside that much cozier. The librarian put on the last cardigan he’d brought with him. It was times like these when he wished he’d moved further south, but he could never leave this little island. Too many good memories tied to ever move and besides, he wasn’t planning on retiring anytime soon, no matter how many times the principal brought it up.

Nope, there was no getting rid of him.

The doors to the library opened and a group of girls walked in, uniforms damp from being caught in the rain. One girl, a redhead with glasses who frequently visited the library, looked up from her book to smile and wave at him.

“Hey Ol’ Inny!”

The librarian waved back, smiling.

“Hello girls! Can I help you with anything today?”

“Nope, we’re just here for a quiet place to study.”

“Oh, well, tell me if you need anything!”

The group nodded and walked to the back where several chairs and circular tables stood. Inny turned his attention back to his desk. He picked up the deck of cards he’d found in the park and took them out of their pack. It was an odd thing to find out on a walk, a deck of tarot cards of all things, but there had been something about them… they’d been in his hand before he had the chance to stop and think about it.

He fanned out the cards, looking at the - frankly gorgeous - artwork accompanying them. He knew nothing about tarot, but these seemed out of place even for a tarot deck.

One card in particular piqued Inny’s interest. It was a picture of a person reading with books stacked high on either side of them. On the bottom it read ‘ _The Librarian_ ’. He turned it over and on the back, inscribed in golden letters, it read:

_“The keeper of information_  
For others to use.  
All is recorded by you,  
Everything in it’s place.”

The lines disappeared as soon as he finished reading them. He stared at it, thinking it was an interesting trick to make words just vanish like that. Maybe he should see if there was something similar -

As soon as he considered it, a dozen possible titles jumped to the front of his mind, and their exact locations on the shelves. He blinked, startled by the clarity. It had been a long time since he’d been able to recall something so quickly.

The door opening stopped his train of thought, sounds of rain and wind breaking the silence of the library followed by the scraping of shoes on the carpet. The girl’s red hair was flattened by the rain, but she was still recognizable.

“Oh hey, Kelly!” Inny said, grinning a nearly toothless grin.

Yellow eyes peaked behind sunglasses. “Oh, hey Ol’ Inny.”

“Do you need any help finding something?”

“No, I’m fine. Just here to study.”

“Ah, well, don’t hesitate to ask!”

“I won’t.” Kelly walked off to where she’d seen her friends.

Inny turned back to his work, but then the noise lowering to a quiet murmur as the girls settled in. He turned back to his work, the cards still strewn about on his desk. Scooping up the cards, he put them all back into the deck and placed it on the countertop. Weird memory issues aside, the deck would make a nice addition to his own collection of knick-knacks.

He was soon engrossed in his work, sliding books back into their shelves with unusual ease. He didn’t even need to check the barcodes - they simply came and went from his hands like he’d been doing it for years.

Well, he had, but that was beside the point..

He even knew where to find books he didn’t have, shining like spotlights in absence on the shelves. He got flashes of books under beds, on tables in homes he’d never visited, and one on a park bench.

The next time he looked up, he found Ashe looking at him, sunglasses still perched on her nose.

“Ol’ Inny, do you know where books are on, um, stereoisomers?”

Before he had time to say anything, call numbers jumped to the front of his mind as well as a plethora of titles. He blinked and his mind cleared, but the information remained, clear as a spring day.

“Oh, of course. Try 547, third row down.”

Kelly blinked, mouth left half open. She glanced to the computer on the other side of the room and then back to him. “Thank you…” She trailed off, eyes wandering to the collection of junk Inny had on his desk. Usually it just looked like stuff he’d picked up off the street; old coins, interesting looking bottles, junk usually no one cared about, but the new addition caught Kelly’s eye.

“Um. Ol’ Inny?”

The old man looked up from his work. “Yes?”

“Where’d you find that deck of cards?”

“Oh! I found it when I was walking in the park. Very pretty, innit?”

“Yes, and, I - I’m pretty sure it’s a friend of mine’s. Do - Do you mind if I take it?”

“Oh, well in that case, sure, go right ahead! And tell them I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It’s alright.” She said automatically, taking the deck and stuffing it in her pocket. She was about to bolt out the door to share the discovery with Markus and Gregor, but the whispered voices behind her reminded her of her purpose here.

“Thank you again,” she said before heading off to the nonfiction section, slipping her card into the deck. She could at least give her friends the book before leaving.

She pushed her glasses up further on the bridge of her nose.

_And it’ll be so nice to get rid of these._

—

“Ooooh! My precious deck! You’ve returned it!” Rat crooned.

Thog rubbed his forehead, looking more tired than normal. “Thank God, now let’s get these cards in the deck so we can all go back to normal.”

Ashe glared over the top of her sunglasses, eyes now black. “You’re the only one this deck hasn’t affected!”

Thog glared back. “Rat has practically been living here, worried about this whole thing,” he hissed.

Gregor held up a hand, the other holding a duckling. “Let’s just get this over with. I’d rather not grow more attached to these guys anymore than I have.” The ducking in his hand quacked, as if in agreement.

“No, I refuse.”

Everyone turned to look at Markus, arms crossed and looking as serious as he sounded. “I’m not giving up my card. I know what it’ll do. I prefer this to how I was before. It’s clear, for once. I’m not…” He pursed his lips and let his voice trail off, as if he thought he was about to cross a line.

Gregor looked a bit nervously to Ashe, whose eyes had flashed yellow and then blue for a second before going back to black.

“Markus…” she sighed, grasping at straws, “What if… what if… What if I let you hold my hand?”

He looked to the ceiling, actually considering her offer.

“I suppose,” he said, finally conceding.

Her shoulders visibly relaxed, but she could feel herself tense up a bit again as Markus slipped his hand into hers. No one made a comment as the heat rushed to her cheeks.

“So,” Gregor said after a moment, breaking the silence. “How about we put those cards back?”

“Y-Yeah,” Ashe stuttered, holding out the deck for Markus and Gregor. As the last card was put in, all three gasped as they felt something pull sharply at them. There was a sharp pop as the ducks went away. Ashe yelped, squeezing her eyes shut as a sharp pain ran through them. She dropped the deck, but Rat snatched it out of the air before it could land on the carpet.

He started stroking it and muttering to himself as the trio regained themselves. Markus and Ashe briefly looked at each other, still holding hands. Markus looked down at them, his face changing as he went through a myriad of emotions, before finally - gently - pulling their hands apart.

“I… I’m not sure what to say,” he said, a faint blush tinging his cheeks as he pointedly looked away.

Ashe straightened herself, the pain from her eyes fading. “You were under the influence of magic, it’s okay.”

Markus nodded, and wordlessly handed her a chocolate.


	4. Benefit of the Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old… “friend” returns, calling Markus’ trustworthiness into question.

Markus stood before them in the museum’s break area, hands clasped tightly together. He was, at first glance, nervous - an usual look for him as he fidgeted and gently tapped one foot against the tile. He took a deep breath, and then addressed the assembled group. “Some of you - well, at least Ashe - are going to disagree with this, but I think I made the right choice.”

“’Right choice’?” Ashe raised an eyebrow. “Markus, what did you do?”

He simply looked at her for a moment, letting the silence hang, then opened the door behind him. Someone walked in.

It was a girl. She seemed maybe 12 or so, and looked worn, skin a strange ashen shade and surprisingly thin. Her glasses bent slightly in the middle and didn’t seem all too comfortable. Her clothes were clearly thrown together, grey shirt a size too big and jeans that looked like they rode up slightly, but her appearance was very familiar.

“May I present,” Markus gestured to the girl. “Victoria Vestern.”

In an instant Ashe was on her feet, grabbing him hard by the shoulder and immediately dragging him out of the room and into one of the storage rooms, waiting for the door behind them to slowly shut before turning to glare at him.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking, Ashe, but I paid for the hospital bills with my own money - ”

“That’s not it. _What were you thinking?!_ ”

“I was _thinking_ I’d do some good for a girl who’s lost everything. She’s not the same person anymore, Ashe.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

He glanced aside and bit his lip. “She doesn’t… remember. Anything. She knows her name, and she know about spirit stuff because I told her, but other than that she’s an entirely different person.”

Ashe remained resolute. “I don’t trust it. I don’t trust her. Hell, at this point, I don’t trust _you_. Markus, again,” she looked him in the eyes. “What were you thinking?” She couldn’t quite keep the hurt tone out of her voice.

To his credit, Markus didn’t comment on it. His eyes did narrow, and he clearly thought about it, only to continue on. “She was in a coma for a few weeks! She’s clearly half the age she used to be - ”

The door creaked opened and a head poked through. “I know you’re talking about me, you know. I’m not an idiot.” The girl looked at Ashe for a lingering moment. “Do I… know you?”

Her eyes flickered a shining gold. Ashe raised an eyebrow at Markus.

“One second, In - Victoria, we’re clearing some stuff up.” He reassured her.

“Fine. I can see where I’m not wanted.” She disappeared and the door swung shut. They could hear Gregor’s tone - low and uncertain - muffled from the next room before it clicked into its frame.

“What was with her eyes?” Ashe mused.

“You didn’t notice the hair?”

“No, I was too focused on you _bringing your murderous boss to our safe haven_.”

“Ashe, her roots are all white. Like, your color white. I talked to Kyl’il about it - “

“She’s in on this, too?” she hissed, glare deepening.

“She thinks that because you - I - we - used your magic to stabilize hers, she’s kind of… adapted to it?” He continued, as if ignoring her annoyed protesting. “Grew into it? And that’s why she’s younger and her memory’s in shreds. Because her magic was so heavily entwined - “

“Markus.” Ashe put one hand on the door’s handle, grip tightening as she felt the cool metal. “I’m leaving right now. I’m sorry, but… I really can’t handle this. I’ll see you later.”

She slipped into the kitchen, ignored the confused looks she got from the others, and headed her way up the stairs. A moment later, there was a loud _slam!_ as the door at the top of the stairs fell shut.

Gregor and Dont exchanged an uncertain look, while Thog didn’t seem phased. The girl was content to continue inspecting the room, even in its bare-bones state. Dont waited a moment longer, then flew after Ashe.

“So,” the girl said finally after Markus awkwardly reappeared. “Like I said, I’m not an idiot. I _know_ she doesn’t like me. Why?”

“It’s… to do with who you used to be. I can tell you, but it might not be the kinda thing you want to hear.”

She looked at him. “I can handle it. I’d rather know and be upset than be blissfully clueless.”

He gave a small smile and collapsed on the couch next to her. “Same as ever, then, I guess. Let’s see… There was once a woman I used to know named Inien, and while she was powerful, she was also very very scary…”

—–

His ringtone woke him up, shrill and demanding, pulling him from sleep. Markus blearily reached for his phone without opening his eyes, fighting back a yawn. “Hello?” he mumbled.

“Hi,” answered someone with a voice that was exceedingly perky for this time of night. “This is Braeden General Hospital. We’re trying to get a hold of Markus Velafi.”

He fumbled for his glasses, instantly awake. “This is he.”

“Your, um.” He heard clicking, like the caller was checking something on a computer. “Your cousin, Miss Vestern, is awake.”

Markus swallowed nervously. _Finally_. “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Unfortunately, this is just a courtesy call, as per our policy with coma patients. You won’t be able to see her until visiting hours start at eight AM. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

He hesitated. “It’s no inconvenience,” he said after a moment. “Thanks for letting me know.” He hung up and stared at his phone. It was probably for the best - he had some people he should talk to before going to see _her_. Not to mention his… _teammates_ , though three in the morning wouldn’t be a good time for so sensitive a topic.

He stood and walked into the hallway. Thog’s office door was open, which made things simpler. He went and knocked on the doorframe.

The curator looked up from an old book he’d been writing in, glaring at Markus. “Do I even want to know why you’re awake?”

“I could ask the same.” Markus flexed his hands, suddenly nervous. He knew Thog knew what he was doing - he’d helped him set this up, with the right paperwork and all - but he still wasn’t sure how his boss would react. “The witch is awake.”

Thog’s eyes narrowed. He closed the book, stood up, and stared up at his light. “Do you hear that, Kyl’il?” His voice was barely a whisper.

The light guttered, as if it was an actual flame instead of electricity. “I heard.” The spirit’s voice was deadly quiet. “And I have known since before burning Markus received the call. I would like for him to come see me, before telling the others.”

Markus stiffened. “Of course,” he said, unsure what to expect. He hadn’t seen the spirit Ashe took power from since Dont had given himself and Gregor transformations. He was still somewhat afraid of her, afraid of any anger she might hold towards him for helping Inien. But she had never displayed it, and so he had no reason to deny her - especially if he wanted to _stay_ on her good side.

Thog fiddled with his bracelets for a moment. “I’ll come with you,” he said, slowly, as if still considering it. “This is something we should all consider.”

“Should I go ahead and tell Ashe and Gregor, then? Despite what Kyl’il said?” His hand, resting in his pocket, gripped onto his phone.

“Have you even told them you’re taking care of her hospital bills?” Thog asked, looking at him evenly. When Markus didn’t answer, he shoved the old book into a drawer and locked it. “Thought so. Let’s get going. We’ll tell the others later.”

—–

Kyl’il didn’t give them a grand entrance like Ashe had once described to him. Instead, Thog and Markus were left to enter at the base of the lighthouse and travel up the stairs spiraling along the inside wall. Markus could’ve teleported himself to the top, since he was already transformed to use the ferry, but he felt like he had to match Thog’s pace, and that meant walking.

Halfway through their ascent, a strange shimmering of light caught his gaze - as if the walls around them weren’t quite _there_. Gently, he pressed his fingers to it.. Instantly, a ripple started, revealing rows and rows of books taking up the entire inside of the lighthouse. He stared for a moment. “This is… Is all of this about spirits?”

“Spirits, records of Braeden, records of the previous Guardians, information about the people, artistic things like scripts…” Thog smiled despite himself. “Kyl’il has a lot of time, despite keeping an eye on everything, so she tends to write. A lot.”

“Oh.” Markus wondered how - or if - they were organized, if he might be allowed a glance at a time or two. It was somewhat overwhelming, but he itched to know more about what was here.

They finally reached the top, and Thog knocked once on the door above their heads before opening it. Kyl’il stood at the center of her room, kneeling while she spoke with what looked like a ghostly fox.

“You can tell the Fox King that I have no need of her gifts right now,” she said, her voice somewhat terse. “I have other matters to pay attention to than history.”

The fox whined, crouching as if trying to elicit more just by being cute.

Kyl’il glared. “That is all.” She looked towards Markus and Thog, then at the fox spirit. “You may go.”

The fox tilted its head, considering the newcomers. Kyl’il’s glare grew piercing when it didn’t move beyond that, and it let out a happy yip before turning and running off. Instead of leaving via a door or one of the spaces shimmering with Kyl’il’s barrier, it leapt into the air and faded from sight.

“What was that?” Markus asked.

“A servant of an…” Kyl’il pursed her lips. “An old _acquaintance_ of mine.” She stood and turned towards them. “Welcome, burning Markus. I believe you have not been here before?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, suddenly trying not to look too impressed. There were so many candles here, and that glowing orb in the center - the spirit definitely took her status seriously. “It’s very bright,” he said dryly. “But I didn’t come for a tour. You asked me here.”

Thog put his hand on the back of Markus’ head, forcing him to lower it. “Show some respect, kid,” he growled. “Braeden only exists because of her, and all the energy she’s put into protecting it over the centuries.”

Kyl’il stared at the two of them, seemingly undeterred by either of them. A little confused, at the worst, but mostly like she was waiting for something. When Markus didn’t bite back at Thog, she nodded. “There’s no reason to force his hand, curator,” she said. She walked over to where her staff leaned against a pillar and picked it up. “Young Dont gave him her power, and my bright Aesling trusts him, so a test is unneeded.”

“‘Test’?” Markus looked between the two spirits. “What do you mean, a test?”

Thog picked at one of his bracelets. “It was my concern that you - well, after being almost killed, it’d be reasonable for you to want to leave Inien to die. You didn’t. You used the money you’d saved to keep her safe and in what care you could afford. It made me wonder if it wasn’t a backup plan, to draw back and recuperate if she couldn’t control Charoth.”

Markus’ hands clenched into fists, and he tucked them behind his back to hide it. He smiled, sickeningly sweet, at Thog, letting the thinnest points of his fangs show from behind his lips. “You thought that my trying to do the right thing - for once in my fucking life - was a ploy to keep doing what nearly got my _throat slit open?_ ”

Thog shrugged. “It’s my job to be pragmatic.”

“And mine to guide,” Kyl’il added, tone even. “I could have told patient Thog to leave you be, but I did not. But that is not the point in having you come here. I wanted to warn you - ”

“Warn me of what? That I’m still not trusted?” Markus growled, feeling his claws dig into his palm as his fists tightened. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of angering him. “Even after saving Ashe’s and Gregor’s skins, and accepting her and Dont changing my energy, and ending up fucking _cursed_ after choosing to work with them?” He wasn’t sure which of them he was angrier at: Thog, for acting like he was alright and then trying to push him, or Kyl’il, for not vouching for him even though he was sure she knew everything he’d done since the attack on the museum. “I try to save _one_ life thinking that hey, maybe all of you can help her too - like you want to help _me_ \- and that’s reason to not trust me?”

A noise made him look around. Crackling green energy, almost familiar, sparked from the end of some kind of staff. When he followed it to the staff’s holder, he found Charoth at the base of a nearby candelabra, masked eyes directed at him. The small spirit remained silent, which only infuriated Markus more. He wanted one of them to say _something_ , to tell him he was wrong, that he was misunderstanding.

But the silence dragged on. He swore under his breath, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Kyl’il insisted. “It’s about Inien. Her memory - ”

“Is probably dangerous, right? One of the last things she’ll know is me turning on her, so I should be careful. I already thought about that, lady.” Markus didn’t wait to hear anymore, just focused his energy. He teleported himself away from the lighthouse, first to the ground outside and then over and over back to the city and towards the hospital. It was exhausting, and he knew he was pushing his distances more than he should, but it helped. Being enveloped in his magic, knowing no one could catch up to him - it helped.

—–

Markus was somewhat calmer by the time visiting hours started. He’d waited out the rest of the night on the hospital roof, tired from teleporting and letting his magic refill, before returning to normal in an alley a block away and walking back to the building.

He hadn’t been here much, maybe twice a week since the incident. But it was still enough that he knew his way from check-in to Inien’s room without getting turned around. The door was wide open for once, and he could hear quiet voices.

“Miss Vestern, do you need glasses?”

“I… I don’t know.” The voice was much gentler than Markus would’ve ever expected to come from his b - _former_ boss. “Did I come in with any? The television does look kinda blurry.”

“Not as far as I know. We’ll see about having an optometrist visit you, then.”

Markus knocked on the doorframe, finally feeling courageous enough to enter. “Hello. Markus Velafi, here to visit my cousin.”

The nurse turned towards the door. “Ah, Mister Velafi. Good to see you again.” She smiled - perhaps a bit too sweetly for mere common courtesy -  then returned to the girl, all business once more. “You’ll only be on light food until your body gets used to being up again, but since neither of you is sure about allergies, I’ll have to stay with you when you do eat. Breakfast will be brought up in an hour.”

“…Thanks,” the girl said, but her focus was all for Markus. Once the nurse left and he’d mostly-closed the door, she scowled at him. “I don’t know you,” she stated bluntly.

Markus froze. He’d gotten used to her change in appearance since the museum battle, but he hadn’t expected this upon her waking up. Yelling, an attempt at stabbing, even magic being thrown across the room. But definitely not unfamiliarity. He moved cautiously as he sat down by her bed, not sure what to expect. “I’m Markus,” he said, letting his own tone match hers. _Might as well be straightforward._ “On paper, I’m your cousin. I’ve been paying for your hospital bills.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Surely not out of the kindness of your heart.”

He considered that. “How much _do_ you remember?”

“I know my name’s Victoria Vestern.” She ran a hand through her hair, careful not to let the IV line get caught. She looked frail, as if the slightest touch would break her, and yet her pose projected confidence and persistence.“Other than that? I woke up here a few hours ago and the nurses have been fawning all over me ever since. And one of the ceiling lights keeps flickering, but not often enough to tell anyone.”

Markus’s eyes narrowed. So Kyl’il was watching here, which meant - _oh_. She’d probably been about to tell him about the amnesia when he lost his temper. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I could use some help,” he said, staring at the overhead light. “I don’t know how much to say.”

“What are you doing?” Victoria asked, following his gaze. “There’s no one - ah!” She let out a definitely un-Inien-like squeak and flinched slightly as Kyl’il’s flame flower emblem appeared on the light. “What the hell is that?”

“Someone very important,” Makus said. “Now, listen carefully. What I’m about to tell you is the biggest secret you will ever learn…”

—

“Wow.” That was her only reaction, when Markus and Gregor finished explaining how she’d been before. The girl leaned back against the couch cushions. “That… makes sense. It explains the kind of… ghosts of feelings towards things I didn’t quite understand.” She looked up at the ceiling, and then glanced aside. “Would it be too weird if I asked you to call me ‘Inien’ instead?”

“Can I ask why?” Gregor spoke up.

“The name ‘ _Victoria_ ’ makes my skin crawl.” She rubbed her arm awkwardly with one hand. “It’s what I’d prefer.”

“It is more familiar. I only barely remember you mentioning your mundane name once,” Markus admitted.

Thog, leaning against the wall, finally decided to add to the conversation. “That name has a lot of history to it.” He looked at her. “Are you sure you want to carry all of that? Even though you don’t remember any of it - even though it might have basically been someone else?” There was something heavy in his words, a strange hint of understanding.

Inien met his gaze. “I think I can handle it.”

Markus looked between them, considering. “Are you blaming her for the damage here?”

Thog stepped away from the wall. “It’s hard not to, but I’ve also seen how corruption works. With spirits, anyways. People, I’m not so sure about.” He looked over the three of them. “Just make sure you tread carefully.” He headed for his office, hands in his pockets.

Markus sighed, then stood up as well. “I should go apologize to Ashe. Gregor, do you mind staying with Inien until I get back?”

Gregor shook his head. “I should go talk to her. I think she’s mad enough about this that seeing you will make her even worse.” He stood up. “I think… the only other person I’ve seen her storm away from like that is her father.”

Markus stuck his tongue out. “Great. He must be _such_ good company.” He sat down again and looked at Inien. “So there’s not much here, but I did um. Retrieve your phone from your old office, and I have a few books.”

Inien tugged on a bit of her hair. “Actually - can we go upstairs and look at the galleries? I… I want to see what happened - what _I_ did, I guess - properly…”

Gregor shook his head as he made his way to the stairs. This was going to take a hell of a _lot_ of getting used to.

—–

Ashe didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to get away from the museum, away from Markus, away from _her_. She kept walking, with no thought to a direction, until she found herself at the cliffs.

She stopped well away from the edge, the sea stretching out before her. If she looked to her left she could see the silhouette of Kyl’il’s lighthouse, a dark shape on the horizon. To her right, downhill, was the docks and warehouses that fed most of Braeden’s industry. There was nowhere to go in any direction, but at the same time, this small stretch of grass and rock and weeds felt more open and promising than anything else.

She sighed and sat down, watching seagulls circling above the waves. “What should I do?” she mumbled.

“Talk to someone?” That small voice was Dont, settling next to her.

Ashe jumped - she hadn’t realized the pigbat was following her - but then relaxed, almost surprising herself at her delight at having company. “There’s not much to say. Markus is being an idiot. He’s trusting that… that witch, even after she almost slit his throat! After she tried to destroy the city!”

Dont squirmed, trying to find a comfortable spot of grass. “Miss Kyl’il doesn’t think he’s wrong,” she said.

“You knew about this too?!”

“I knew she was in the hospital, and that Miss Kyl’il was keeping an eye on her. If she sensed any dark energy, I’m sure she’d have said something.” Dont headbutted Ashe’s knee. “I’m sure she’s harmless.”

“But she’s _not!_ ” Tears stung at Ashe’s eyes. She wiped them away, trying to keep her emotions at least a little under control. “Inien got so close to getting what she wanted. The only way we were able to stop her was because Gregor rushed into things, and Markus almost dying, and… Even if she doesn’t have her own magic, who’s to say she won’t manipulate a spirit or something? We can’t have another battle like that, Dont. I don’t… I feel like I lost something, back then. I don’t know if I can make that sacrifice again.”

The pigbat whined. “You wouldn’t have to. I’m sure of it. Our friends can’t be completely wrong, right?”

“I hope not.” Ashe sighed, and reached out to scratch behind Dont’s ears. “Thanks for coming after me.”

Dont squeaked in delight. “Well, you’re my first Spirit Guardian! I have to keep an eye on you!”

She smiled. “I suppose you do.”

They sat there for a while, watching the sky slowly turn pink and then dark blue as the sun set behind them. Ashe felt slightly calmer, but she didn’t know if she could go back to the museum yet. If Inien was still there, she felt like that panic might overwhelm her again, and the anxiety that everything might be about to fall apart might return.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

She tilted her head back to find Gregor standing behind her. “What?”

He smiled and sat down next to her, opposite Dont. “Wren said you came here a lot the last summer before you stopped visiting at all. Like it was your sanctuary.”

“Oh.” Ashe pulled at a bit of grass. “I don’t remember that clearly, but I guess it sounds right.”

“We’re lucky that Braeden’s safe enough for a little kid to wander up here.” Gregor’s voice sounded tight for a moment. Too many worries, too many lies. It was a sense both of them were familiar with now. “No fence at the city limit or anything.”

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “What happened, after - after I stormed out?”

“We talked.” Gregor turned to face her. “Inien wanted to know about what happened. She really doesn’t seem to remember, although she is kind of morbidly curious.” His face scrunched up in distaste. “I want to trust her, because Markus does, but I’m just… not sure. So much is different because of what she caused.”

“You can say that again.” Ashe reached out to pet Dont again, only to notice that the pigbat had moved to between her and Gregor and was leaning against his leg now. She smiled despite herself, although it quickly fell away. “I just don’t understand how Markus could forgive her so easily!”

“Maybe he hasn’t.”

“What do you mean? He sure seemed friendly enough.”

Gregor bit his lip. “In a way, but… He’s also being very cautious. He’s much less open with her than he is with either of us. Like he’s worried about causing something. But he still probably feels like he owes her something? I don’t know, since he never really told me any specifics of… before. And I didn’t know him then, either.”

“He _should_ be,” Ashe snarled, before remembering to rein in her temper. She took a deep breath. “I guess you’re right, but he could’ve warned us beforehand. Told us that he was planning on bringing her around! It feels like…” _Like he didn’t trust us._ The realization hit her. She leaned back on her arms, focusing on the sea once more. “I just wish he thought about how rough it might be, for everyone.”

Gregor leaned over to ruffle her hair. “Yeah, but there was probably a lot in his own mind, so maybe take some steps to the middle this time, alright? I’m not saying you have to apologize to him, but maybe consider giving Inien a chance.”

Ashe looked back across the water, his words seeming to weigh in her chest for a long moment. “Everyone deserves second chances,” she said, finally. “But even so, they have to _earn_ them.”

—–

Inien didn’t say much as she walked around the galleries on the museum’s main floor. Her progress was slow, and she spent just as much time looking at the scaffolding and tools the repair crews left in place as she did the remaining art.

Markus leaned against the admissions desk, splitting his attention between watching Inien’s progress and checking his phone for a text or call or anything. This was worst than those first fights together. _Does she really mistrust me that much? After everything I’ve done?_ he thought. As soon as he realized it, he slammed his hand against the desk, letting the sharp pain clear his mind. It was so easy to go with anger, with a sense of being wronged, like what had first drawn him to Inien - to the _witch_. He’d been giving into it since last night. But he knew he shouldn’t, that it would only lead to more misunderstandings and fights. And that was the last thing he wanted.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a loud _harrumph_. Thog stood near the remains of the floor medallion, watching Inien cross the lobby again. Once she stepped into one of the galleries, Thog turned towards him.

“So what now?”

“What do you mean?” Markus asked.

“I mean, where is she going to stay?” Thog stepped closer to him, keeping his voice low. “You can’t have signed her out of the hospital without a plan.”

He adjusted his glasses, swallowing back his panic. He actually hadn’t thought about that. At all. He was too caught up in getting adjusted to everything else. “Can’t she stay here?” he said hesitantly, his voice almost pleading.

Thog’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer. Not quite threatening, but definitely getting his point across. “Markus, she can’t stay here. For one, you have no idea how to take care of a kid - you can barely take care of _yourself_.”

Markus frowned at Thog. “And what, you can?”

His expression didn’t change. “I’ve lived several human lives over, and the last curator of this museum had a son, so yes, I can. Inien is welcome to stay at my place if she’s okay with it.”

Markus jerked away from the curator. “Your place? I thought you lived here, too.”

Thog rolled his eyes. “ _I_ as a spirit might, but my current self - _Dan_ \- does have a house. I just don’t see the point in using it much, if everything’s here anyways, and he always thought it was a hassle driving back and forth. So I’ve been here since the incident.” He sounded even more condescending than usual, as if this was the most obvious fact in the world.

“Okay, so you have a place, but you don’t trust either of us apparently, so why would you welcome her - ”

“It’s _because_ he doesn’t trust us.”

Both of them glanced towards the new voice. Inien had walked up to them, unheard while they were caught up arguing. She rubbed at her arm, a new nervous habit. “I’m right, aren’t I?” she said. “You want to be able to keep an eye on me, and while an employee might stay here, a kid is entirely different…”

Thog looked her over, considering something, then finally nodded. “You’re right.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder, the gesture slow and deliberate so she could move away if she wanted. “That perception is going to be a frightening thing one day.”

Inien twitched and stepped away from him. “I don’t want to be frightening,” she insisted. “But, if it’s easiest for everyone, I wouldn’t mind staying with you. At the least it’s better than trying to find whatever she… I… the witch left of her… regular life.”

Markus looked between the two of them before settling a glare on Thog. “I don’t like this,” he said. “You don’t trust me or her not to do something horrible. So why should either of us trust you not to make sure she can’t turn evil?”

Thog reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He held it out to Markus. “Because I’m giving you, Ashe, and Gregor access to my home as well. In case of emergencies. But also so you can allay any fears you do have, at any time.” He frowned as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Although I should hope it’d be at reasonable hours, and not the dead of night.”

“I guess that’ll have to do.” Markus took the key, turning it over in his hands before adding it to the keyring he used for his bike’s. “We have to start somewhere, right?”

Inien nodded, then turned around to survey the lobby itself. “So this is a base of operations, but home is going to be somewhere else. It’s probably for the best.”

Thog stepped in front of her. “You are not getting involved in anything here,” he growled. “Not for a long, long while.”

Inien pouted, the first immature reaction she’d had to any of this. “I have a right to know, don’t I?”

“To know, yeah, but not to pry.”

Markus couldn’t help a smile. Maybe this was a good idea. He started to say something to join in their conversation, but then his phone buzzed with a text. It was from Gregor. _On our way. Kelly wants to see Inien._ Another followed it after a second. _I meant Ashe._

He frowned, his good mood dissipating instantly. He’d almost forgotten that she was mad at him. And now that he’d had a while to brood over it, he could see why. Even if it did rub him the wrong way that no one trusted his judgment, he also realized they had no reason to yet. Almost everything he did was still self-preservation: accepting Dont’s power so that he could still be in contact with some magic, helping them fight spirits so that he kept some excitement in his life, accepting Thog’s offer of work so that he didn’t have to find a real job. He hadn’t really done anything for anyone else yet, except protect Inien, and they had reason to be suspicious of that. Much as he didn’t like admitting it.

He leaned back against the desk again, trying to plan out what to say. Thog and Inien were still bantering back and forth, having a friendly argument about how much Inien could be around spirits and what she could handle. _That didn’t take long,_ Markus thought. _At least something about this is easy._

It didn’t take too long for Gregor and Ashe to return. Ashe walked up to the center of the lobby, standing at the edge of the medallion’s frame. “Inien,” she said, her voice tense. “Come here, please?”

Inien stared at Ashe blankly, then cast a glance towards Markus. He nodded to her. Ashe was definitely on edge, but she didn’t have that anger from earlier today. Inien bit her lip as she stepped forward, ignoring Thog’s continued grumbling about boundaries and taking things slow and residual energy.

Ashe waited until Inien was standing across from her. “Watch carefully,” she said. She grabbed her hairpin and held it to her chest, saying that all-too-familiar phrase. “ _Pretty Magical Spirit Thief Aesling!_ ” Her transformation occurred in a wave of lightning and warmth.

Inien’s eyes widened, and she took a small step back. “That’s what you all do?” she asked, her voice high. Markus couldn’t place if it was from fear or excitement. She stepped towards Ashe around the medallion. “It’s like you’re a totally different person.”

Ashe moved forward as well. When they were standing in front of each other, she paused. “I wanted… I don’t think you’ve earned a second chance yet. But he does.” She nodded at Markus, then gestured behind her at Gregor. “And he trusts that. So I’m going to trust both of them. But - ” her voice turned icy - “if you make either of them into a liar, I will not hesitate to finish what we started.” Despite the threat, she held out her hand to Inien.

“Ashe!” Gregor hissed. “That’s a bit harsh - ”

“It’s true though,” Inien muttered. She was staring into Ashe’s eyes, ones that her own mirrored now. “You wouldn’t have before, but you would go to that lengths for them. If it was because of me.” She nodded to herself, then reached out and took Ashe’s hand. “Alright. I think that’s fair, especially with what everyone else is giving me.”

Ashe let the silence linger for a moment, then finally smiled. She let her transformation melt away, keeping her grip on Inien’s hand. “Glad we have an agreement. I hope we’ll never have to go that far.” Finally, she looked towards Markus. “I’m not going to say sorry,” she said as she walked towards him. “But I do get why you did what you did. And it is probably the right thing to have done.”

Markus straightened and walked towards her as well. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned at her. “I think I can live with that. Until I earn more.”

Ashe poked him in the side, quickly falling back into their usual playfulness. “Until you earn more.”


	5. Too Much of a Good Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Gregor’s attempt at purifying a spirit goes awry, the gang has a new kind of problem on their hands - and maybe one only he can solve.

“What,” asked Ashe, staring at the object in Thog’s hands, “is _that?_ ”

He held out the item before the trio - and Inien, and Dont - with a certain care, fingers pressed lightly along its edges as if afraid it might burn him yet not so gently that he might let it drop.

The curator turned it over until the light caught its surface, reflecting back and shattering through the air like a kaleidoscope. After she shook the sudden spots from her eyes, Ashe leaned closer, and looked down its silver-coated edge. “It’s… a mirror?”

“A corrupted mirror.” Thog held his hands out towards her and she obediently took it from his grasp, turning it over in her own hands without the same care he’d had. Save for the broken glass on one side, fractured like a spiderweb, it seemed to be in otherwise top condition - its silver engraving was pristine. “I need one of you to purify it.”

“Why call us _all_ here then?” Markus crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Thog continued to look unamused. “Because _you_ sleep in my basement, Dont wanted Gregor here, and because I trust _her_.” He gestured loosely to Ashe.

Ashe’s head lifted up from her inspection of the mirror, momentarily looked flustered, and then did her best to change the subject. “Why’d you want Gregor here, Dont?”

Dont clapped her hooves, gaze sweeping between the occupants of the room excitedly before settling on Gregor. “Okay, so, Ashe might not always be there to purify spirits, right? And while you might not have the right capability to do so now, with my or her magic directing it, you could be able to - and even eventually learn how to purify them on your own.” She looked towards Markus. “Both of you, really, but I knew Markus would be here already! And I thought, why not test it on something that isn’t fighting us yet?”

The pigbat moved over until she was standing directly beside Ashe. “So, it’s your choice who you want to help you, although I’d prefer to do it myself.” She paused. “Also, I needed a ride here. My wings have been super tired lately.”

Markus stifled a snort whilst Inien openly laughed, the duo exchanging amused looks at Ashe’s glare and Gregor’s slow smile. “Well, with all the energy you’re not spending on flying, I think you’ll be fine for this,” Ashe teased.

Dont shook her head. “But I don’t have any direct experience - ”

“You taught me though, basically,” Ashe pointed out. “Might as well now, right?”

“I’m fine with you doing it,” Gregor said, grin failing to fade as Dont clapped her hooves again. “What do you need me to do?”

The pigbat sighed, but quickly perked up again as she focused on the task at hand. “Well, transform first, of course.”

He nodded, and pulled his badge from his pocket. “ _Handsome Magical Spirit Warrior Gregor!_ ”

As the light died, Dont, satisfied, looked to Ashe, who leaned over and deposited the mirror into his hands as his glaive vanished from his grasp.

The pigbat settled onto his shoulder, an unexpected weight for someone so small a size. She pointed at the mirror with her hoof. “Now, close your eyes and concentrate. Let the magic come to you, like when you transform or summon your glaive. Let it go - er, flow.”

She closed her own eyes and, after a moment of uncertainty, Gregor followed suit.

As Dont’s energy connected with his, he felt a jolt, like a strike of lightning and a crash of thunder amidst the darkness; like a sudden explosion, red and hot and burning; like being forced awake from a bad dream, images still searing their way into his mind; like the slam of brakes in traffic, an awkward lurch before regaining control. That all passed in the instant before the pigbat seemed to realize exactly what it was she was supposed to be doing, magic pooling at his fingers and drizzling into the mirror as the beginnings of a river before it became a waterfall.

Then, as their combined magic made contact with the mirror, he felt the darkness within it properly for the first time. It caused that same snap, that whiplash, like a cold burn running around his neck, a further discomfort as he already felt himself at loss for breath and laughter in his ears. Memories threatened to distract him, but Dont’s energy seemed to nudge at him, helping him redirect his focus.

The darkness didn’t seem to disperse - like pouring bright light into a dim room, it only seemed to grow blacker. The chill bit at him, vying for his magic, before there was a scared and very real “ _Eep!_ ” beside him.

The world exploded in a burst of bright light, a startled cold against expected warmth, and a _BANG!_ like a gunshot.

He fell to the floor, still shaking, as broken shards of glass landed around him. Fire filled the air, smoke barreled its way into his lungs with each breath, panic rose in his chest and blood ran down one side of his face, almost unnoticed as his shock overrode pain -

“Gregor,” there was a voice in his ears, “are you alright?” Ashe’s hand was on his shoulder, and his shaking stopped, if it had ever started to begin with. The air was sweet and clear, and where there had once been a wound was simply an old scar.

“Yeah.” She held out a hand and helped Gregor up. His glaive manifested absentmindedly in his other hand, the Warrior’s pulse slowing some as his fingers gripped the wood. “Yeah, sorry, I don’t know _what_ that was about.”

Dont frowned from where she had landed on the ground beside him. “I just don’t know what went wrong…” A sudden look of realization dawned on her face. “Maybe we shouldn’t have had the two people with no experience purifying spirits try to purify a spirit.” She scuffed a hoof against the floor. “Sorry, I thought I could handle it, after watching Ashe and having Kyl’il teach me.”

“Did it work?” Gregor looked down at the shattered pieces of glass and silver across the tile. “I guess not, but I certainly felt something there.”

Dont tentatively nudged the debris with her nose, expression twisting into hesitation. “The spirit’s not there, and I don’t think breaking the mirror would’ve destroyed it - we’re really tenacious, you know. My guess? We purified it and it escaped, likely scared from the volatile reaction of all our magics.”

“Huh.” He stared out at the pieces, dying sunlight dancing off of them, and tilted his head. “Next time, Ashe is doing it.”

The motley of laughter from his friends did nothing to settle the unmoving weight in his chest, and the distinct feeling that there was still something _very_ wrong.

—

The next day, Ashe slept through her first alarm, long enough that she didn’t have time to hang out with her friends before classes started. It was a bad habit that only cropped up when she went home some weekends - in the school dorms, it was so much easier to wake immediately.

She headed to the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and bemoaning the fact she should’ve fallen asleep earlier. Her aunt and uncle weren’t around Monday mornings, but Wren was there. She nodded to her cousin, eating cereal at the kitchen’s island counter, while she set about making her own breakfast bagel. “Morning.”

“Mornahhh - morning,” Wren answered, her first attempt interrupted by a yawn. “Headed for school?”

“Yeah.” Ashe leaned against the counter, waiting for the toaster to finish. “What’re you doing today?”

“Oh, you know, the usual.” Wren ticked off her schedule on her fingers. “Morning shift at the bird shelter, although I have to go in early. They got a call about some bird of prey with a busted wing, need someone to watch the phones while our team goes to get it, since most of the volunteers don’t show up until ten. Then I’m helping at the theater again with set building, and then I have to go help the Youth Entertainment Committee scope out arenas for the battle of the bands in a few weeks. We _should_ have had that booked months ago, but someone forgot to send in the paperwork.”

Ashe smiled. “You never stop doing stuff, do you?”

“I like being involved, what can I say?” Wren gestured at Ashe with her spoon. “You, on the other hand, haven’t done much,” she said, her voice suddenly serious. “Is everything okay, Kelly? You haven’t asked my parents for going out money lately. I mean, not that you do very often, but it’s been like two months now.”

“I just haven’t been very busy.” The lie came easily enough. She felt a pit in her stomach while doing so though, a twinge of anxiety at deceiving her cousin. “My friends and I haven’t been going out as much. Too much studying, you know? We are juniors, after all. Aeva’s even already doing college visits, even though no one’s applying yet.”

Wren frowned. “I suppose. I do remember being way more stressed during my third year than when I was a senior, because at least then everything was settled.” She finished her breakfast and stood up. “Just take care of yourself, okay? I don’t want to see my favorite cousin burning out.”

Ashe wasn’t sure how to respond to that. How could she explain that in her case, burning out might be very literal, because she dealt with magic and spirits now? The silence stretched on, punctuated by the toaster dinging with her bagel. “Thanks,” she said simply, and way too late.

Wren stepped closer and hugged her. “I’m here for you, Kelly. Alright? I know we’re not as close as we used to be, but I will listen if you want to talk.” She ruffled Ashe’s hair as she moved away. “I’ll see you next time you’re home, I guess. Later.”

“Bye,” Ashe mumbled as she tried to get her hair to lay somewhat reasonably again. She sighed, then went about finishing her breakfast, and put Wren’s forgotten bowl in the sink. She wanted to tell everyone - Wren, her friends - about why she was so distant lately. It would make things so much easier. But it would also put them in danger, because they’d inevitably want to help.

Dont peeked around the corner. “I heard your cousin leave,” she said. “Can I be in here now?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Ashe smiled at the pigbat. “I know you say people can’t see you usually, but I really don’t want to take too many chances.”

“Well, kids usually see spirits, or at least small ones like me,” Dont explained as she flew up onto the counter. “And you never know when someone’s had an encounter with one and might be able to pick up on something weird. Or if they just have a lot of innate talent, like you!”

Ashe nodded. “That makes sense.” She was silent for a moment, thinking. She wanted to ask about the previous Guardians, how they balanced normal lives with spirit stuff, but then she saw the clock on the wall. “Shoot, I’m gonna be late!” It’d have to wait for later. She picked up her bag, pausing just long enough for Dont to squeeze into it, then ran outside.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk to school, a little less than an hour, made shorter by the fact that she had been doing this every other week for the past year and a half. Still, today she could not shake a sense of something being wrong.

Finally, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye, and it clicked. She kept walking another half block just to be sure she wasn’t imagining it.

There was a shadow following her. She didn’t know if it was human or spirit, friend or foe - though she didn’t suspect it was friend - until she finally turned to face it, one hand instinctively curling into a fist at her side so tightly that her nails dug hard into her skin.

“Hello?” she called down the street, eerie and silent despite the early time of day. Normally there would at least be commuters here, people walking from bus stops to their offices, cars on the street. Dont peered out of her bookbag nervously, ears twitching as she looked between Ashe and the shadows creeping out from nearby alleyways and cast by the buildings all around them.

“So you saw it too?” the pigbat whispered. Ashe didn’t respond, too focused on everything else. There was movement.

She visibly relaxed, as did her companion, when her friend stepped up beside her. “Oh, Gregor, it’s just you. You nearly gave me a heart attack. What’re you doing out by Varyndir’s at this time of day?”

“I never realized your uniform was so dark before,” Dont commented idly. “Maybe I should pay better attention!”

Gregor laughed. “Thought I might stop by while I was in the area and see you, Red.” He glanced over to Dont, then added, “It’s not that much of a problem - clearly you have bigger things to worry about.”

The corner of Ashe’s mouth twitched. Something was wrong about his tone. “Was… was that a _threat?_ ”

He raised an eyebrow, face tinged with suspicion. “What? Of course not. I would _never_ say something like that.” He stepped fully into the light. “Or, at least, _Gregor_ wouldn’t.”

The first thing Ashe saw, of all the things she noticed, was his missing scar. She ignored his eyes, a haunting red-on-black, the way the colors of the shadows stuck to him even as he emerged from them, or his eyebrows lowering and forming an expression that was so very un-Gregor-like. She kept her gaze on the spot that should’ve had that old scar, mouth pressed into a line.

The realization was fast after that; in the back of her mind, she thought really was getting used to magic. “You’re the reflection of Gregor.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, expression unwavering. “From the mirror.” Instantly, her worry turned to defensiveness. _What do you get when you invert absolute good?_

“So you understand it, then,” the thing said in a twisted mockery of Gregor’s voice. His smile grew wider, and his voice dropped into an awkward, stilting imitation. At Ashe’s uncertain look, he simply shook his head. “Don’t pretend to care, Kelly,” was all he said before he dove forward, glaive manifesting in his grip and aiming straight for her heart.

There was, she decided as the blade pierced into the cement that had been beneath her feet moments ago, no way she’d have time to transform. As he rounded on her, his mundane clothes simply melted into his warrior uniform and his expression became fierce enough that it shook her to her very core. She knew that there was no way she’d get out of this - _alive_ \- without magic.

She focused on Dont, on the mark she’d been given so recently for events such as this, and pulled the energy from it. Rather than the smooth song of a transformation, it was like the first time she’d tried champagne when she was 9 - a terrible taste that burned her mouth, before a bonfire lit the pit of her stomach and seemed to ease the ever-growing tension in her shoulders.

Ashe ducked under another of the twin’s strikes, Dont letting out a muffled shout of surprise as his unengraved glaive clipped the edge of her backpack. She pulled tighter on the bag’s straps with one hand, the other stretching into the slow flow of magic she’d summoned for something - _anything_ \- that she could use right now.

Her sword’s hilt flickered into her grasp, though even as the blade shone in the afternoon sun, she knew it wouldn’t be of much use. Her best bet was _avoidance_ , not confrontation, and especially with so little magic already on hand. She could feel it like a day after a lot of activity, a stiffness and lack of her usual capabilities, just with her flow of energy instead of physically.

“Dont,” she hissed and slid past the twin, clipping the edge of his blood-red uniform with her blade. “Call Gregor. Call him _right now_ and then go get Markus and Thog and maybe even Kyl’il.”

“You know I’m bad with your phone. It’s so small!” Dont mumbled as she began digging through Ashe’s bag.

“ _Then go and find him before I’m left plastered on the cement!_ ” What had once begun as a series of carefully timed stabs and dodges was now wild and blind, each of the duo moving with such force and speed that they both knew a mistimed strike would be deadly. He easily matched and followed her as she threw herself away from every blow, weapon nearly catching the edge of her uniform or slicing through stray strands of hair that didn’t quite move as quickly as the rest of her did. All either of them was moving on now was instinct, no time to strategize, no searching for openings or planning feints.

There was a flicker of pink and black as Dont dove away, speeding towards the horizon with an unusual vigor compared to her usual lazy flutter. All at once Not-Gregor stopped, eyeing her vanishing silhouette as Ashe paused in a crouch. She breathed hot and heavy, but he seemed content to stand there and think for a long few seconds.

He smiled suddenly, tilting his head to the side. “I think we both know what you’re wondering - ‘ _if you’re the opposite of Gregor, why go after me?_ ’” His voice rose to be high and mocking, still with that unpleasant inflection, and he tossed his ponytail aside dramatically. “Because everything he loves, I hate. Everything he is, I’m not. _Everything he’s ever done I will undo, if it’s the last thing I ever can._ ”

The twin’s smile shifted to something almost resembling playful, still an awkward expression with Gregor’s hateful eyes watching her. “You can handle me, for now. Let’s see how the others do.”

He took off down the street at a pace far too fast for Ashe to keep up with, each step almost bouncing across the pavement before he disappeared.

She collapsed to her knees, still breathing hard, magic flickering and fading from her fingertips. Her phone, buried somewhere in the bag at her side, began to buzz. All she could think was _why tell me?_

—

Gregor hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling, the off-setting nerves inched into his dreams, making him wake up twice in the night. He stopped by the coffeeshop on his way into work, grabbing a large black coffee. He’d need it if he was going to be running on five hours of sleep and Camberwell still breathing down his neck over the museum write up.

He rubbed his eyes, getting a headache at the mere thought of the file. It was looking near impossible to add the details to make the captain happy, keep his friends safe, _and_ make it seem legitimate. He ran through the case again as he walked down the street, having the file ingrained in his mind at this point. His train of thought came screeching to a halt when he saw Dont out of the corner of his eye. She frantically gestured for him to come close.

Gregor hurried over. “Dont, why are you out here? Where’s Kelly?”

“Something wrong happened with the purification and now there’s another version of you out here and it’s evil!”

“Wha - What? An evil twin?”

“Yeah, an evil twin, and it’s attacking Ashe!”

Gregor’s blood ran cold at the thought of Ashe being attacked by… himself.

“Where is he now?” he asked, his tone noticeably more serious.

“He’s either by Ashe at the school or he’s moved on to Markus.”

He grit his teeth. “I’ll try where Ashe was first, then Markus.”

He stormed out of the alley, throwing out the rest of his coffee in a nearby bin. Dont peaked from out of the corner.

“Where are you going, the school’s this way?” she whispered.

He made a small gesture to the police cars lined in front of the station, along with some sedans.

“Ooooh. Alright, you go to her, I’ll find him!” Dont quietly flew the other way, on the search for Markus.

—

Ashe arrived - nearly out of breath by the time she got there - to find Markus, untransformed and cornered in an alleyway, with the twin’s blade to his neck. As soon as he heard her footsteps Not-Gregor turned and smiled at her. “I could give you a new meaning to your nickname, _Red_ , if you’d care to step closer so I can dye your hair with his blood.” His grin widened as he turned back to Markus. “What’s it feel like, hm? _What’s it feel like, hopeless and helpless?_ Cold biting at your throat, almost unable to breathe for fear let alone _life?_ ”

Something flickered across Markus’ face - guilt, and then sadness, before he settled on something more neutral and devil-may-care. “Do you want a real answer?” he muttered as he pressed further into the brick wall. “Or have you picked up on every evildoer’s love of monologues and rhetorical questions?”

The twin’s grin twisted, tilted, as he regarded Markus. “The sad thing is, I’ll enjoy this the least. The one who, among you, deserves it - and all because he hates you the _most_.”

“And I really don’t blame him.”

A sharp _crack!_ echoed through the alley as Ashe slammed her elbow into the back of Not-Gregor’s head, glaive dropping away from the blond as the twin barely kept himself from collapsing and he gripped for the wound with his right hand.

As if on cue, the piercing shriek of tires on pavement cut through the air, followed shortly after by an unmarked black sedan that came barreling to a sudden halt just before the entrance of the alley.

Gregor opened the door and leaned halfway out of it. He raised his arms, both hands gripping his gun, but didn’t quite manage to point it at the twin - he was clearly apprehensive about his two friends standing so close.

Not-Gregor locked eyes with his reflection, scowling and ferocious like a cornered animal. “A fair fight,” he remarked coldly, though his expression quickly shifted back to a grin. “But for who? Maybe some other time.”

He leapt, higher than any human should’ve been able to, and jumped between two walls of the alley before disappearing over the rooftops.

Gregor watched him go, face frozen in uncertainty, and Ashe went to help Markus up from the ground. The blonde rubbed the front of his neck and gave a few loose coughs. “I’ve almost had my throat slit two times, let’s not go for a third,” he grumbled.

“What did we _do?_ ” Gregor wondered aloud, eyes locked on the sky. Ashe found herself agreeing.

“We definitely need more experience,” Dont said, dropping down from her vantage point on a fire escape. “Let’s get to the museum.”

—

“Alright, I need to make sure I heard this correctly.” Thog crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “You were attacked by Gregor, except it’s not Gregor, it’s his evil twin.”

“Yes. And he tried to kill me, and Markus, and will probably come after us again if we don’t stop him.” Ashe stood beside Markus and Gregor, the detective looking definitively uncomfortable. Dont was nowhere to be seen, as she now waited on-guard by the entrance of the still-closed museum, ready at a moment’s notice to sound an alarm should their foe appear.

“He’ll come after us, first, and then target the police station if we either can’t stop him or he defeats us.” Gregor murmured absentmindedly. “Although if he defeats us, we have a lot more to worry about than the armed officers.”

Ashe looked at him, worry and pain on her face compared to his, which remained stoic. “Are you sure?”

“He wants to beat me. That’s what you said, right?”

She repeated her question. “Are you sure?”

Gregor nodded. “He’ll prove he’s better, kill everyone I’ve ever loved, and then kill me. Or try.” He grimaced, thinking about those he cared for. More than before, but now it felt like too many.

“Not that I don’t trust you, Gregor,” Ashe looked to Markus, then Thog, “but how do you _know?_ ”

He shrugged. “He’s my reflection. If it was your double that popped out of that mirror, what would _she_ do?”

“…You’ve got a point.” Ashe leaned against the wall and put her head in her hands. “Ohhh I am not ready for this.”

“Good.” Gregor pulled his badge from his pocket. “Because you’re not going to be fighting him.”

“What?” It was Markus who spoke up this time. “You can’t be serious. You can’t really think we’re just going to let you fight him alone - he nearly killed us!”

“He’s not _stronger_ than me.” At Markus’ glare, Gregor sighed. “Look. He’s me, if I pulled out all the stops - if I wasn’t _good_ , if I didn’t have morals or integrity. If I didn’t care about what I was doing, or what I had to do beyond one fight. He’s my _evil twin_. If anyone can take him down, I can. I don’t want either of you getting hurt on my account.”

Markus let out a low whistle. “You really have a good sense of yourself. Show-off.” His voice was still tinged with worry, but he was at least forcing a reassuring smile.

“You’re too good for your own good, Gregor.” Ashe stared him down. “I’m okay with this, but if you start _losing_ or, gods forbid, get _hurt_ I am never letting you hear the end of it.”

“I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this,” Thog remarked.

She shrugged. “We don’t have much of a better option. Dont said that the only way to get rid of this spirit is to purify it, and it’s Gregor’s magic that caused it in the first place.”

“He doesn’t know _how_ to purify spirits.”

Ashe looked at Gregor. “Then I guess he’s going to have to learn.”

Any further discussion was cut off by an unearthly screech from outside. Gregor made for the door and, without any further hesitation, was almost immediately in his Warrior uniform. He didn’t see Dont or his double immediately, until he heard voices from above: the roof. He jumped to the top of the building, taking a brief moment to enjoy the extra strength in his transformation.

Dont crouched against the museum’s roof, a thin trail of liquid that was neither quite red nor white trailing from her right foreleg. “You of all people should know that a _weapon_ won’t do terribly much to a spirit.”

“I’m corrupted, doll.” Not-Gregor smirked and spun his glaive. “You’re afraid to _touch_ something that holds a corrupted spirit - what will a wound from the source do?”

The real Gregor was suddenly before her, matching weapon in his hands. The twin’s smile only seemed to grow.

“You should just be glad Gregor’s here, or I would’ve kicked your ass myself!” Dont shouted, and then gave another yelp as the twin’s glaive swiped for her, missing only as Gregor’s own weapon impacted it. “Alright, alright, I’m out of here! Take him down, Gregor!”

The two stood face-to-face, blades pressed hard together. Neither side gave way even an inch, the Warrior glaring and his twin grinning.

“Look how well I’ve done already. I don’t need to cheat with a spirit-enhanced glaive.” The twin shoved Gregor back, grin so wide and twisted it seemed like it might split his face in two. “I’m you, but better. All I needed was a little bit of darkness, a little bit more _freedom_.”

The Warrior dove for his reflection, only to flinch as each strike was expertly parried.

“See?” Gregor ducked as the twin’s blade aimed for his head. He took a step back and settled into a low stance. “I almost killed them - _you_ almost killed them. Heaven forbid someone stronger than you comes along, because they’d be dead in an instant.”

He slashed for his opponent’s feet, his twin not even bothering to block each blow and instead calmly moving away. “And it’s not even like I had to be _clever_ about it. Ashe is the brains. Markus is the charm. And you’re just an _idiot brute_. You don’t stand a chance.”

Gregor stabbed forward, and the unengraved glaive caught it. The two stood like that for a long moment before he spoke. “You say that like I don’t know that.” He spun and swiped again. “You say that like being the brawn is a bad thing.” Another slash. “But if that’s who I have to be and what I have to do to defend my friends, teammates, the people I care about and who rely on me - “

It was the simplest maneuver that he wasn’t expecting; hard force on the handle of his glaive, using one hand as a fulcrum to knock his twin’s own weapon aside. He took that instant of surprise to move, the smallest opening but also the biggest he knew he’d get, and slammed his blade straight into the twin’s stomach. “Then I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

Dont’s words from his first transformation echoed in his mind. “ _Warriors have a tough time drawing on magic, so they don’t use it much - and your weapon is spirit enhanced, so you’ll likely have to use it as a focus for what little magic you_ can _do._ ”

He recalled the feeling of summoning his weapon, of their failed attempt to purify the mirror earlier. Slowly, gently, he let his magic flow into the Glaive of the Waves, ebbing and mixing with the spirit’s own. The spirit inside seemed to understand his intent and when he opened his eyes, he found his weapon glimmering as it created its own light.

The wound on his twin’s stomach didn’t appear to bleed, save for the slightest flickering of darkness at the edge of the brilliance. The illumination dimmed, almost died, and the two locked eyes for a final time.

“I hate you,” the twin spat.

Still, Gregor smiled. “No,” he replied with resolute certainty, “you don’t.”

He drew his blade from the twin’s stomach, then turned and leapt down from the roof. Behind him, what had once been his foe faded into dancing beams of blinding white light.

The Warrior landed square on the stairs of the museum as the others assembled around, each of his friends looking more impressed than the last. Ashe seemed like she was trying her best not to run forward and hug him.

“Wait,” Markus held out one hand to the side. “Let’s make sure he’s the real deal, first.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Dont asked behind him, nose scrunching up in confusion.

“He just fought his literal evil twin. Give me the benefit of the doubt.” The blond held Gregor’s gaze, brilliant blue eyes on warm brown. “An easy question; Gregor, do you hate me?”

Gregor tilted his head slightly. “I used to.”

Markus’ face remained a mask of suspicion for a long moment before he dropped his hand. “Good enough for me.”

“You just wanted an excuse to ask him that,” Dont objected.

“Should’ve ended it with something more dramatic,” the blond remarked as he strode forward, casually ignoring the pigbat. “Either of you. ‘To the last, I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart, I stab at thee; for hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.’”

Ashe slowly turned her head to him. “What… what was that? Shakespeare?”

He grinned. “It’s from Moby-Dick. I _am_ a man of theatre, Ashe.”

She rolled her eyes back at him. “A man of theatrics, more like.”

Dont held one hoof over the cut on her leg, though when she drew away, there was no wound there. As Gregor opened his mouth, she cut him off. “Ashe checked and I should be fine. She healed it with some of her own magic. No worries.”

He nodded wordlessly.

“So,” the little spirit studied the edge of the museum’s roof - and former battlefield - before addressing the Warrior. “How did you beat the spirit?”

“I stabbed him with my glaive,” he spun the object in question, “and used that as a focus to purify him.”

Dont’s eyes widened and mouth fell open as she turned to him. “Gregor,” she said, surprise evident in her tone, “that’s _brilliant_.”

“Nah,” he smiled back. “That’s just me.”


	6. P.I. T.A.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A teacher’s assistant threatens to reveal Ashe’s identity when he starts to show concern over Kelly’s distant and irregular classroom and out-of-class behavior.

The glittering, bronze armor clinked with each step it took, plates scraping against each other as it raised its huge sword overhead. Ashe only had a second to roll out of the way before the sword landed, shaking the entire museum, but not leaving a scratch on the floor.

She got right on her feet again, gritting her teeth and pulling out her whip. She rolled her wrist before she cracked it, aiming for the helmet. A perfect hit, the striking sound of metal echoing through the room as it clattered to the ground. Ashe didn’t flinch when she saw no head in the suit of armor. The suit turned to her, its sword dragging across the tile.

Before she had time to comprehend it, Markus jumped in front of her, holding the Glaive of Waves in front of him, blocking the incoming strike.

“Kelly, attack his flank, I’ve got this covered!” He ordered, before pushing back against the armor, sending it stumbling back. The armor had no time to react as Markus swung the glaive into its knee while Gregor popped out of nowhere, firing several fireballs at the chestplate - one disappeared into the armor - before it detonated with a loud bang, armor expanding like a bubble before it snapped back into place.

With a flick of her wrist, the rope of her whip hardened into a sword. She drove it into the space between the shoulderpad and chestpiece. The sword went straight through, giving Ashe the perfect window to the spirit to purify it -

“Kels, you need to wake up!” Gregor shouted from the other side of the hulking armor.

“What?”

“Yeah, Kelly, wake up!” Markus echoed in the same tone.

“I don’t understand, we’re winning!”

“Wake up!” The two shouted just before the armor spun around, her sword still stuck inside it. Ashe tried to run, to dodge, anything, but her feet were held firmly in place. The spirit placed a hulking hand on her shoulder, the cold metal sending shivers up and down her spine and started shaking her.

“Kelly! Kelly! _Kelly!_ ”

She blinked, Melinda Museum fading from her mind, replaced with science class, her classmates’s eyes on her. She ran one hand across her eyes, picking her head up off the desk as the pain in her back became more evident. She stretched her neck, to the right, then left, seeing Mr. Fiyore standing beside her, prosthetic hand on her shoulder.

“Done napping?” He asked good naturedly.

She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Sorry, late night studying.”

He patted her shoulder once. “Well, just don’t push yourself too hard. Now, where was I?”

Another student reminded him of the isomer he was drawing on the board, which set him off, heading back to the front of the classroom to continue the lesson. Kelly rubbed her eyes again, picking up her pencil and looking down at her notes. It was smudged slightly and it didn’t quite connect with what Mr. Fiyore was rattling on about, but she still did her best, staying awake and doing her best to participate for the rest of the period. Once the bell rang, she packed up her stuff and bolted out of the class, trying to pretend she didn’t hear Mr. Fiyore call for her to stay. A little voice in the back of her mind scolded her for not getting enough sleep.

_It’s not_ my _fault that spirits decided to come and attack at midnight._

She made a mental note to start some of her homework during lunch so she wasn’t completely overwhelmed at night, especially if another corrupted spirit was found. Selena was suddenly at her elbow, breaking her out of her train of thought and sidetracking her into normal conversation.

Kyr kept his smile on as the rest of the students filed out, a couple wishing him a good day. Alone in his class, he sighed, sitting in his chair, tapping his fingers against his desk. He wanted all of his students to succeed, but it was rough. Some had trouble paying attention, others just weren’t good at chemistry, and plenty of them seemed to hate school in general. Then there was Kelly Garren, who’d seemed so studious on that first day - but maybe that was a fluke.

He shook his head as he stood up and headed for the teachers’ lounge. He had a free period now, and it was easier to plan future lessons when there was background noise than in an empty classroom. When he arrived, Dunstan and another teacher he didn’t recognize were chatting, the stranger’s grey hair and heavy gloves seemingly out of place.

“I’m telling you, I have to switch my classes,” the other teacher said as he removed his gloves. “I got a tip from administration that I don’t have enough students in my electives.”

Dunstan shook his head. “It’ll be okay, Colfus!” he insisted, his voice booming through the small room. It was impossible to have a private conversation with the science teacher. “I keep telling you, instead of just shop-sort of classes, you gotta offer hard sciences. I know a lot of the girls always seem to listen more when we have our geology units. Or branch out and ask if you can take the recent history classes from Tiller - I’m sure he’ll appreciate the lower work load, and you’ve lived through enough of it to speak from experience.” He laughed while Colfus ran a hand through his hair, apparently a bit self-conscious.

Kyr walked over to them. “Can I sit here?” he asked, indicating the empty chair at their table.

“Of course!” Dunstan insisted, even as Colfus slightly shook his head. “Kyr, my boy, have you met Colfus? He’s the… practical sort of teacher for Varyndir’s. Everything from mechanics to shop.”

Colfus leaned back in his chair, seemingly defeated. “They’re all electives though. I usually only have ten students in any given class.”

Kyr frowned. “So you have issues getting them interested too?”

“We all do, with certain types. There’s a few that’ll be genuinely interested of course, but the curse of a teacher is that the rest will be apathetic at best.”

“But our jobs is to make them interested!” Dunstan insisted. “Which you’re marvelous at, Kyr, I don’t think I’ve had a student teacher as talented as you in my entire time here.”

“Thanks. I just wish I could get them to listen a little more when I have something to add on- especially Miss Garren. I’d like to ask her about her assignments, but - ”

Colfus smiled. “That girl was horrible at woodworking, but when it came to final papers, she really excelled.”

Dunstan clapped Kyr on the shoulder. Even sitting, Kyr buckled slightly from the force of it. “Kelly Garren’s very studious, as are her friends. If one of them is hard to pin down, it’s probably because they’re doing too much extra work.”

Kyr frowned at that, but the conversation moved on before he could say anything. In the couple of weeks he’d been teaching, he hadn’t really seen that - Kelly was distracted, could barely answer questions in class, and each of her assignments were either a day late or obviously completed last-minute. Overall not that odd for a high schooler in a difficult class, but very much so considering the praise Dunstan and Colfus had for her.

—

“Okay, good morning class! Before I get too into my lesson, let me take attendance.”

Kyr grabbed the seating chart out of the stacks of paper cluttering his desk. He looked up and down the rows, mumbling the names to himself. They were half-memorized already, but one or two students always seemed to slip him up.

“So, no Kelly today?” _Again? That’s the second time this week! She didn’t seem sick…_

No one corrected him, so he made the mark in the attendance sheet. “Alright, let’s get started. First of all, any questions on yesterday’s lesson?”

A few hands went up and Kyr immersed himself in what he was saying, forgetting about his worries about Kelly. Just as he was about to start the lesson for the day, someone cleared their throat and it took him a moment to realize Kelly had arrived, late slip in hand.

“Sorry, I slept in late,” she said, looking guilty.

Kyr smiled automatically. “Well, you’re just in time for the lesson.” He took the slip from her. “Take your seat!”

He continued with the lecture, explaining about reaction rates. It was something Dunstan had already taught them before he arrived, but there was a lab tomorrow, and he wanted to cover his bases. As usual, he divided his attention between lecturing and paying attention to the students. They’d calmed down some since his first day, the novelty of his presence wearing off quickly, but he could still keep most of them focused. One girl was failing to completely hide her phone under her desk, and Kelly looked ready to fall asleep at hers, but otherwise the entire class at least _seemed_ to be properly studious.

The bell rang, and he sat at his desk as they all prepared to leave. “Miss Garren, could you stay for a moment?” Kyr asked. He looked at the note she’d given him - it was properly marked from administration, but he knew they tended to let anyone slide for anything. If anything was going to be said, it would have to be from him.

She waited until the other girls had left before approaching his desk. “I’m sorry for being late,” she said immediately.

Kyr sighed, his mechanical fingers tapping against the desk as he figured out what to say. He forced himself to stop that, realizing it might sound ominous to her. “Is everything alright, Kelly? The other teachers hold you in very high regard, but you seem to be getting more and more distracted as the weeks go on.”

“I’m fine!” she insisted. “I’m sorry, I just… I’ll pay more attention.”

“You know, I run a study group of sorts twice a week after classes for the day. It’s very laid back, and gives a chance for you girls to work together on understanding the material better, or to ask me for tutoring if you feel you need it. It might not be a bad idea for you to come in today.”

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Oh… um, I appreciate the offer, Mr. Fiyore, but I’m busy tonight helping my cousin. I’ll keep it in mind for other weeks, though!” The first warning bell for next period sounded. “I should get going.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I guess that’s all I can ask, isn’t it?” He stood up and walked her to the door. “Take care of yourself, Kelly.”

—

The trip across the city had been an interesting one - Inien laughing every few minutes, while Ashe and Dont exchanged uncertain looks shortly thereafter. Ashe supposed she was thankful for what Wren had done, but to some extent, she was now even more worried. They’d only known the “new” Inien for a few days by now, and already she had a _pet?_

Something nagged in the back of Ashe’s mind that reminded her what had happened the last time Inien had a “pet”.

Of course, that was really the wrong word, but the point still stood. She’d had the moment to text Thog and ask about it - and who’d texted back his begrudging approval - though it was only when they finally stepped into the museum that she realized she’d forgotten to inform Markus. Ashe and Inien stepped past the construction crew, most of whom nodded politely to them with only a few stares at Inien’ new pet, but Markus wasted no time in asking directly about it as soon as he saw them.

“What,” the blond said from his waiting place in the lobby, “is she doing with _that?_ ”

It was, at first glance, a handsome and majestic bird resting on Inien’s right arm. This image, however, fell apart when he fell under scrutiny for more than a few seconds.

His right wing, no doubt once as well-kept as the other, now almost seemed to bend at a strange angle, feathers missing in some spots, with a green band wrapped around it like a cast. His beak was yellow tinged with blue and bent upwards almost like a smile, a thin crack running down it. His eyes were wide and bright, the rest of his feathers gleaming in shades of white and navy.

Whenever someone talked, he seemed to listen intently, swerving his head to look at them. Occasionally he would contribute his own call to their conversation, sharp and ringing out like laughter.

“This is Jay,” Inien smiled at Markus, clearly reveling in his surprise. “Ashe’s cousin was nice enough to bend a couple rules so I can take care of him while his wing heals. We’re getting on wonderfully.”

“She named a _falcon, Jay,_ ” Dont mumbled discontentedly.

“Uh… huh.” He glanced at Ashe, who shrugged helplessly.

“Wren thought it would be nice for me to help my _friend’s cousin_ with some ‘animal therapy’.” She did finger quotes. “I suggested she take like, a sparrow or something instead, but Wren said something about bigger birds being easier to help for newbies.” Inien smirked smugly at her, and she narrowed her eyes back. A flicker of tension seemed to spread through the room for a moment before Jay let out another laughing call.

“That seems vaguely illegal,” Markus remarked dryly.

“Literally all of us have done worse.”

“Fair point.” His gaze followed Inien as she cheerfully headed for downstairs to go show Thog. “I don’t suppose your ‘girls’ day out’ went particularly well.”

“I want to _strangle her,_ ” Ashe grumbled. “But I want to strangle you, occasionally, too, so I suppose it’s on the right track.”

Markus frowned. “You are just a barrel of sunshine today.”

She shrugged.

A smile cut across Markus’ face, so suddenly it was almost disarming. “I just got my first paycheck. I’ll buy you guys ice cream?”

“What, really?” She blinked in surprise, head tilting to the side some as if she had misheard him. “That’s… awfully nice of you, Markus.”

It was his turn to shrug. “Gregor’s coming over in a bit, and we have some spirits to handle. After that, we can relax and visit that new place on South Eagle.”

“That means a lot, Markus, really.” She studied him for a moment, though he didn’t try to hide his smile. “Thank you.”

He grinned back. “What’re friends for?”

Their moment was promptly interrupted by a piercing screech from downstairs, and then the muffled sounds of Thog shouting.

Dont clapped her hooves in amusement while Markus and Ashe shared a look.

—

Kyr did his best not to fidget too much in front of the students that were already there, tapping his fingers on his pants and glancing to the clock every so often. Even though she’d said she wouldn’t be here, he was still holding out hope for Kelly to arrive. More than just teaching, he wanted to be able to _help_ his students - yet there was only so much he could do if they didn’t want help.

He bit back a sigh as he turned to the dozen students in his tutoring session. “Okay, now, what should we go over first?”

A student raised their hand and he was off, getting lost as he re-explained atoms, forgetting about his worries for Kelly. He kept taking questions, appreciating the challenge in switching between easy questions from the freshmen to the seniors’ more complex ones, even one student asking to clarify a math operation, with the excuse that chemistry involved equations too.

Once he’d answered all the direct questions, Kyr sat at his desk and started grading assignments. The rest of the time was for free study between the students, but he made sure to stay in case one of them wanted direct help.

“Umm… Mr. Fiyore?” asked a soft voice.

He looked up. Everyone was leaving already - he must’ve missed the bell for the end of club meetings - but a girl with a blue headband and long hair was standing in front of him. He took a moment to recall her name. “Selena, right? You’re not in my classes, but you’re always here.” He smiled. “How can I help?”

“Um, well.” She fiddled with the strap of her backpack. “I know that it’s more something for a guidance counselor or something, but I think… I’d rather ask you. I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

He straightened, leaning forward slightly. “Is something wrong?”

Selena shook her head. “It’s… one of my friends. I don’t want the other teachers to start thinking she’s bad or anything, and she doesn’t need more pressure, I don’t think. But you only showed up after stuff got weird, so maybe asking you would be okay. I just don’t know what to do!” She checked her phone, quickly - looking for a text? - and then put it in her pocket. “Neither do the rest of my friends.”

“I see.” Kyr frowned and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. He had to be careful not to make her feel like she couldn’t trust him, or like he might get her friend in trouble. “What exactly  has been going on? Do you think she’s taking drugs or something?”

Her eyes widened. “No, of course not! K- she wouldn’t do that. She’s just missing school a lot, oversleeping, claiming that she’s sick. She’s falling behind in her work, and she’s not even going out with the rest of us anymore. It’s scary, you know? I don’t know how to help, because I don’t know how to ask when it feels like she’s retreating into herself.”

Kyr nodded thoughtfully. “When did this behavior start? You said it was recent, but - was there something you can link to it? A catalyst?” He had his suspicions. Their name likely starting with a ‘K’, suddenly missing school, someone the other teachers liked; this girl’s troubled friend _had_ to be Kelly Garren.

Her face scrunched up slightly as Selena thought about that. “I guess… Maybe when she started going to the art museum all the time? But that much was normal, she’s always liked checking out stuff in the arts district - more than the rest of us, at least - and it’s been closed for renovations since that gas explosion, so she can’t still be going there. Right?”

_What could be causing bad behavior from an art museum?_ Kyr was more puzzled than ever. “That all does sound rough,” he said, trying to focus on helping Selena. He could think about solving this once she left. “All I can say is to try and be there for your friend, and show her that you and your friends care. She could just be depressed, and feeling lonely or something even though there’s no evidence of it. Chemistry is confusing enough on its one, even more so when you get into biochem, right?” He felt a little accomplished as she smiled at his poor joke. “Try asking directly, even if she does dodge the question. At the least, it’ll let her know that you all have noticed, and that might be enough to make her open up. But the main thing is to continue being supportive as you have, I think.”

Selena looked unsure, but nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Fiyore.” She glanced towards the door. “Ah, were you guys waiting? Sorry!” She turned back to Kyr. “Bye! Thanks for the help!” Then she rushed off to her friends, a girl with back hair and nails and another with a cream-and-red hoodie.

Kyr waited for them to leave, scanning over the rest of the room to make sure everything was in order and put away. Then he prepared to head home himself, his work for the day done.

—

It only hit him when he was halfway to the museum.

_Kyr, what the hell are you doing?_

He _should_ be headed home. He still had papers to grade, and his own homework to finish, lessons to plan so Dunstan could approve them. But instead he was driving through Braeden’s arts district, headed for the Melinda Museum. All for what? A student that only paid attention his first day? When that really wasn’t that out of the ordinary?

But he couldn’t not go. If he could help, he should, and that was all there was to it.

At least, that’s what he told himself as he pulled into the museum’s parking lot. It was mostly empty, just the construction and repair crews leaving for the day. A few of them gave him odd looks as he got out.

“Museum’s closed, buddy,” one of them said as he took his hard hat off.

“I, uh. I have an appointment,” Kyr fibbed. “With the curator? It’s about a potential - ”

“Ah, just be careful of the scaffolding then,” the worker said, cutting off his nervous babbling. “We’re almost done, but there’s still some high repairs going on.”

“Of course! Thank you!” Kyr waved as he kept walking, straight to the museum’s doors. He paused outside, waiting, considering backing out one more time. But since he was here already, he should go ahead, right? See if he could find out _anything_ to help Kelly.

He tried the door - unlocked. As he stepped into the building, he thought he felt something, a refreshing sensation - like the accomplishment that came with finishing a chore after putting it off for days. A warm sense of calm. He paused, looking around; where had that come from? Surely he’d imagined it.

Kyr shook his head and stepped further into the museum, taking in the scaffolding in front of a cracked wall, the pieced-together floor medallion, the dusty front desk. He’d thought that the curator would be here, since the work crews had just left, but everything seemed abandoned. “Hello?” he called, walking further into the museum.

No answer. Had the curator left, then? No, the construction worker would’ve mentioned it. “Is anybody here? I’m looking for…” He stopped, tilting his head. He could’ve sworn he’d heard - yes, there! From one of the galleries. He turned towards it, just in time to see a black-clad blonde skid on his back through the doorway. Kyr’s eyes widened - were those _horns?_ “Are you - ” he barely managed before the man scrunched up his face and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Kyr looked from where the man had been to the gallery, his prosthetic hand shaking. He grabbed his wrist to stop it, and realized it was his whole arm. He took a deep breath, then reached into his pocket for a glasses case, the one he barely touched but always kept with him. The glasses inside were like a jeweler or watchmaker’s, with multiple lenses at different focuses, though these also had different colors to each lens.

He put them on and rushed towards the gallery, peeking around the corner. The horned man was there, along with a girl in green with silver hair, and a brunette man in what looked like a red military uniform. They were circling, each with a weapon in hand, fighting… Well, not each other. Kyr could barely see a flicker in the air, like some sort of heat mirage. His frown deepened and he clicked down the next set of lenses. His field of vision was tinted blue, but now he saw them - six statues depicting different militaries from the ages, two at a time facing down the members of the trio.

Kyr gripped the doorway, watching intently. He’d never seen this many phenomena at once, or anyone actually interacting with them besides children. The fight continued, until he suddenly saw the brunette’s glaive glowing, and a crackling green light around the girl’s fingers. They each touched one of the statues, which promptly stopped moving. The horned man teleported again, trying to keep his opponents from turning on his companions by getting in their way no matter how they tried to step around him.

With the odds slightly more even, the trio made quick work of the rest of the statues. The horned man leaned against the wall, looking at his accomplices. “One of you really needs to teach me how to purify stuff. It took you guys way too long to find an opening.”

The brunette shrugged. “None of us got injured, so it’s okay.” He took a deep breath, and his uniform melted away into wisps of light, replaced by a cop’s. “Really though, we should’ve kept Dont around and gotten a barrier up so we’d have a few minutes before starting this - we cut it kind of close to the work crew as it is.”

The girl nodded in agreement. “Yeah.” She frowned at the statues, each now bearing a plant of some kind in place of their weapons, as though they were putting forth offerings. “So are we just leaving them here or…?”  
  
“Thog and I’ll put them back on their plinths,” the horned man assured her. “Mostly me, probably. He likes taking advantage of my extra strength when I’m like this.” A pillar of fire consumed him for but a moment, and when it dissipated his horns were gone. He was left wearing glasses and what could Kyr would have described as ‘cold hipster’ clothes.

“Oh, poor you,” the girl said, a tinge of humor to her voice as her own form was enveloped in green lightning. When it faded, standing there was -

“Kelly Garren?”

The trio all jumped, turning in one movement towards the door. Kelly cringed slightly, but then was in step with her friends. “Mr. Fiyore, what’re you doing here? I can explain, um, this is, I mean… What’re those glasses?” she fumbled.

Kyr looked at each of them. A student, a cop, and some random guy. And they all fought with those phenomena? “They let me see things,” he explained vaguely. “But that’s not important. What I want to know is why you’re here, and doing something like this? Is this why you’re tired in class all the time?”

The police officer looked at her. “You’re falling behind in classes, Ashe?”

“No! I mean, kind of, look, it’s under control, alright?” She shook her head, then stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket before looking up at Kyr. “No one’s supposed to know about this.”

Kyr wasn’t sure how to approach  this. He’d expected a secret part-time job, or drugs being bought in the alleyway, or something. Not something involving _magic_. “I have to tell the school,” he said automatically. “You can’t be doing this, Kelly, it’s too risky.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t! It’s - they wouldn’t understand. No one at Varyndir’s knows about this stuff as far as I can tell, where would you even start?”

“With the fact that one of their students is participating in risky behavior that not only affects her classwork, but also puts her in possibly significant danger. Behavior that a teenager should not be taking part in.”

The blonde snorted. “He’s got you there. But…” He nodded towards the cop. “She does have supervision, and do the school’s rules really cover stuff that happens outside the grounds?”

“When the legal guardian is out of the country? Yeah, they do.” She bit her lip. “Please, Mr. Fiyore, I can’t have people knowing about this. The last thing I need is people watching me, or my friends getting hurt…”

“Maybe a compromise?” The officer muttered. “You clearly have experience with spirits, if you have a way to see them. And Ashe could use someone to help her cover for school, apparently.”

“Gregor!” She looked somewhat offended, a little hurt at the suggestion. “I told you, I have it covered.”

“And we can’t have a lot of people poking around here and feeding the spirits.”

“Or getting in the way,” the blond added. He stepped towards Kyr. “You’re here because you want to help Ashe, right? So how about we let you in on all this, and you don’t tell her school about it all?”

“ _Markus!_ ”

“You got Gregor involved in it and _that_ turned out fine.”

They kept arguing, but Kyr barely registered it. His thoughts were running at a mile a minute as he fought with himself. These phenomena, _spirits_ as they said, were dangerous, but these three could apparently handle them. But what if one of them was caught alone? Surely that happened sometimes, and they’d wind up hurt. Wasn’t it his duty as a teacher to make sure that his student wasn’t involved in it? At the same time, he was curious about it all. Ever since he was a kid, he’d tried to encounter phenomena like this again with very little luck, and now here might be a constant chance to encounter them. A chance to study them, and learn about them, and how they affected the world. Was the officer - Gregor - right? Should he compromise here?

“I won’t go to the school administration,” he finally said, when Markus and Kelly - _Ashe?_ \- reached a lull in their argument. “If you let me help here, and possibly study some of the spirits.”

“Great!” Markus grinned. “I’m Markus Velafi, nice to meet you.”

“Kyr Fiore.” He shook his hand. “I’m a student teacher at Varyndir’s.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Ashe grumbled.

“Look, you were just saying the other day that you wished you had more people to talk to about this besides us,” Markus pointed out. “This is a nice solution to that.”

Gregor walked up and squeezed her shoulder, his tone comforting now. “It’ll be okay. At least this way, maybe you can get help with your schoolwork too.” He turned to Kyr. “I’m Detective Gregor Hartway. Thanks for looking after Ashe.”

“Uh, yeah.” Kyr took a breath. Now that a decision was reached, he suddenly felt exhausted from trying to puzzle everything out. “So what’s… Going on here, exactly? How can you all use magic?”

“It’s a long story,” Ashe sighed. “I guess - we should take you to Thog’s office. He can explain the technical stuff better than we can, usually.”

“The look on his face is gonna be _great_ ,” Markus giggled, leading the way towards the back hallways. “And then after that, ice cream.”

—

A swift movement cut through the darkness, held only barely at bay. The sound of metal-on-metal, ringing out as each strike made contact. A flurry of motions, stopped by fearsome force alone.

It took but a moment for the fight to begin, and another for it to be lost. The victor stood, watching stoically, as their opponent vanished back into the darkness. They re-sheathed their weapons, staring out into the shadows with a familiar, patient gaze, more than ready for their fight to resume whenever their foe so chooses.

They wait.


	7. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a theft at the museum - nothing new, except it’s not one of the Phantom Thieves. Who would go out of their way to steal a ratty old mask?

The thinnest of lines ran through the impeccably kept glass, leaving an open hole just wide enough for someone to slip through. The missing piece was no doubt shattered on the ground below or resting in one of the museum’s many bushes - the thief had known exactly what they wanted and where to find it among the many oddities on display. They were prepared.

The display case, only a few feet away from the vandalized window, was similarly handled; a clean circle taken from the side, pedestal left empty. It could almost be called a perfect job.

The only signs that they had been there to begin with: those two missing cuts of glass, the stolen object in question, and a single, unmistakable, piece of evidence.

—

Thog arrived at Melinda Museum, in the center of the art district in the city of Braeden, at 9:27 am Sunday morning. It took him 10 minutes to look over the latest assortment of paperwork in his office and make sure his ward Inien was occupied with a book, 17 minutes to commence his daily rounds of the exhibits, and at 9:54, 6 minutes before the museum was set to open, he realized something was very, very wrong.

By 10:05, the first of the day’s patrons had already begun drifting in, eager to investigate the newly repaired remains of the “gas explosion” that had recently affected the museum. When the slow trickle of people made their way upstairs, low whispers started to fill the hall, and Thog already knew it was going to be a long day.

Ashe, looking slightly worried if not confused, found him in his office at 10:32 and distinctly lacking her pigbat companion. Markus joined them three minutes later, and when Gregor finally arrived at 10:39 - with his blond intern in tow - Thog escorted them all up the stairs.

As the curator emerged at the top of the staircase, the visitors scattered, each trying to act unassuming and as though they hadn’t been gossipping like hens mere moments before. A series of velvet ropes strung together blocked off a section of one of the gallery halls, and he pulled the end of it aside to let the small assembly through.

Various artifacts filled the hall; hanging on walls and waiting in glass cases, each seeming to have a mystical or mysterious - but pointedly non-magical - quality to them. Almost at the end of the gallery, he stopped, and gestured with one hand to an empty display. “I came into work this morning,” he announced. “And found it like this.”

The case had a hole cut in the side of its otherwise pristine glass, and a nearby window was similarly damaged. As Hartway leaned forward to inspect the crime scene, Rowan drew a camera from their bag and began to take flashless photos.

“The Phantom Thieves haven’t struck in a long time,” the detective mused aloud. “And this doesn’t fit the M.O. of either of them.”

Rowan paused in their photo-taking. “What was stolen?”

The curator’s expression remained unchanged. “There’s a plaque.”

They turned their head and met his dead-eyed gaze. “Humor me.”

Thog looked as though he was trying hard not to roll his eyes as he took a step closer to the display. “It was a mask - or part of one, at least. One of four in a set, each said to be themed after the seasons. The others have been seen only a couple times, though as far as it’s known, they’re all broken into two pieces.” His eyes narrowed. “This is the first of them to have concretely surfaced.”

“The name of the mask’s a bit weird,” Gregor said as he read the plaque. “What is it, Italian? French?”

Rowan, satisfied, followed the curator’s gaze back to the case. Slowly they grinned as their eyes focused on a singular point nearby the hole that had been left. “It’s not much, but the thief left _some_ evidence.” Still holding their camera in one hand, they reached in and pulled a plastic bag and a pair of tweezers from the bag resting at their side. Clutching the tweezers tightly, they leaned forward ever so gently into the case, and drew back with something in their grasp. Rowan then deposited it in the bag and zipped it closed as carefully as they could before placing the tweezers back where they’d come from.

They passed it to Gregor, who smiled as he turned the bag over, inspecting it in the light. “It’s a hair. A single dark brown hair.” He looked over at the curator, and snuck the slightest glance to Ashe and Markus. “So it’s not Dan’s.”

“And it was _inside_ the case, which means it’s very likely the thief.” Rowan looked back over the glass, then at the window. “Considering where the glass was taken, even if the thief was stupid enough to not wear gloves, there’s a large chance they still wouldn’t have left fingerprints.”

“You’re right,” Gregor mused. He glanced to the bag in his hand. “We can get it analyzed when we get back to the station, but it’ll be a shot in the dark if it means anything. You can only tell so much from a single clue.”

Rowan shrugged by way of response. “It’s _something_. I can take it there now, if you like. Need to get home and work on homework for class tomorrow anyway.”

“Sure.” He passed the bag back. “I’d like to talk with the curator a bit. Thanks, Rowan. Sorry there wasn’t too much to do this time.”

“ _Y’a aucun problème - j’ai eu du fun._ ” They offered a wave, not bothering to look back, as they disappeared down the staircase and out of view. A moment later, the door of the museum could distantly be heard closing amidst the chattering of the crowd downstairs.

The detective stared after them. “I think that was a good thing.”

He turned and walked over to the assembled trio of Markus, Ashe, and Thog, the two former having more or less remained quiet during the investigation. Thog kept his gaze on the case, as if he did not trust it to still be there if he looked away. “You two,” he gestured with one hand to Ashe and Markus, “told me about the other spirits you’ve fought over. Do you remember the girl from Halloween with the broken crow mask?”

They both nodded, a slow realization dawning on each of their faces.

“That was one of the masks of the same set. If I remember right, Markus won that fight?”

The blond bowed his head slightly. “Yes. Inien specifically wanted it intact, so she probably knew what it was. It… might still be somewhere in her place, if you want me to drop by later and look for - “

“Wait, wait, you know where Inien lived? And still have access to it?” Ashe rounded on her companion.

“Why do you never trust me?” He held out his hands and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I do. She used to have me drop by sometimes when she didn’t show up in my apartment or send me out to whatever weird random meeting place she’d pick.” He reached into his bag and pulled out his phone, flicking through it as he continued. “And she owned the house, so besides the months of unpaid bills piling up, it’s still there and untouched, although it’s almost property tax time. Anyway, I’ve grabbed a few things from it before…”

“She might have more spirit paraphernalia scattered about,” Thog offered. “You want to be transformed or bring either Dont or I along to help you find any of it.”

“How do you keep getting _into_ her house? I can’t imagine her trusting you with a key,” Ashe interrupted, too lost in her own thoughts to pay much attention to the curator.

Markus rolled his eyes, again. “She ran a security consultant company, and it was only a fraud maybe half the time. I got into your room once, Ashe, of _course_ I know how to pick locks.”

“And she didn’t have top-notch security on her own place?”

He turned his head slightly, pointedly diverting his gaze. “Well, she did until I, y’know, disabled it. I stayed there for a couple nights before I came here, but it was a bit out of my way and I was afraid of getting caught. And even without her there, it’s still pretty creepy.”

“Why get the mask specifically?”

Gregor gestured to the case. “The thief broke into the exact window beside the object they took. There are several other items of similar size in this hall, so it’s not a question of encumbrance. They knew exactly what they wanted to steal.”

“I plan to use it as bait,” Markus grinned proudly. “If they took one mask, they might want the other… Or it might be a spirit thing. If one mask has a spirit - “

“This one did,” Thog nodded. “Each in the set does. Although they were torn in half, it’s likely each piece still contains some of that energy.” He frowned. “Purifying it would be of little use without the other pieces to complete the mask.”

“I’ve got homework,” Ashe raised her hand. “And Gregor’s probably got work.” The detective nodded his agreement.

“So it’ll just be me, then?” Markus considered this for a moment. “Inien should come, too, if she’s up for it. Bring her by and see if there’s anything she wants to keep.” And then, in a smaller voice, he added, “Or recognizes.”

“Do you really think - “

“I don’t mean she regains knowledge of what something is and why it’s important,” Markus waved Ashe’s response off. “But if she sees something she feels a connection to, even if she can’t place a reason, that’s good enough for me. She’s had a few of those moments already.”

“She should still be in the basement,” Thog nodded. “At the least, either Gregor or I am driving you. You’re not taking her on your motorcycle.”

“I have a spare helmet,” he sing-songed, but Thog’s withering gaze did not die. “Fine. You can come with us.”

The curator tilted his head to the side and his frown deepened. “Actually, I can’t go. I have to keep track of how things are going now that the museum’s open again, get started on paperwork, collect a shipment of exhibits later, and prepare for when _you_ finally start your job. Not to mention fend off any reporters who might hear about this…”

“Because I haven’t already been helping out here,” Markus grumbled, before turning to the detective. “Gregor, can you take us then?” At Ashe’s glare, he rolled his eyes and added reluctantly, “Please?”

“Where is it in town? Only if it’s nearby the station - I’m borrowing a cruiser this week while my usual car is getting fixed.”

The blond glanced briefly at his phone, then offered it. “Maybe a couple miles away? I’d guess a ten minute drive at the most.”

“Yeah, that should work. It would’ve been too long a drive if Rowan didn’t have a bike.” Gregor took the phone from Markus and jotted the address down on his notepad before handing it back. “I can take Ashe home as well, and pick up Dont while we’re there if you’re taking her.”

Ashe slowly blinked. “Does… does Rowan know it’s supposed to rain today?“

As if on cue, a brilliant streak of light lit up the world outside. A heavy, regular beating of rain began against the windows and the sky grew dark in a murky grey spread of clouds.

Gregor stared with the others out the window. “Well, I’m sure they do now.”

—

True to Markus’ word, Inien’s home was close enough to the police station that they drove past it on their way there. It was a strange drive for sure, Inien sitting in the front seat of the cruiser with pigbat in her lap and Markus relaxing in the back. When the detective raised an eyebrow at Markus’ apparent ease, the blond shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve been back here.”

Gregor chose, perhaps wisely, not to comment further.

After the cruiser pulled into the leaf-covered drive and the group all got out, Gregor handed Markus a slip of paper. “Call me when you guys are done and I can drive you back to the museum. I’m busy, though, so it might take me a bit to get here.”

“No problem.” The detective got back into the car and pulled out into the road before taking off at exactly legal speed, leaving the trio alone.

The street wasn’t so much abandoned as it was quiet, each driveway empty of cars and lights out in almost every window. While the other houses weren’t in the most pristine shape, compared to the state of Inien’s, they shined - the wildlife in the lawn was past Markus’ ankles, and the warm autumn leaves that had already fallen from the near-bare trees were scattered every which way.

The door to the garage was unlocked, and save for a few assorted tools hanging on the walls and a strange device sitting in the corner, it was empty. Markus kneeled before the door that opened to the house proper and fished a set of lockpicks out of his jacket pocket. Expertly, he removed two of the picks and began fiddling with the lock, Inien watching on impatiently and Dont seeming bored. It only took a minute or two before there was a sudden sharp _click_ and he put the tools back where they’d come from.

“After you, my lady,” he turned the handle and pushed the door open, grinning when he noticed Inien try and fail to suppress a smile.

The building itself was small, white, and one-story, although as they stepped inside, a staircase leading downward waited to their left. They emerged in what could have functioned as a dining room or an entryway, though it was as empty as the garage was - there was only a mat, presumably to leave shoes on, and a decorative rug left atop the carpet in the center of the room.

The entire house seemed to be covered in a thin layer of dust, and when Markus glanced up, he could see the beginnings of a cobweb being spun along the ceiling. “C’mon,” he stepped up the couple stairs into the living room. “I know the kitchen’s cleaned out. We’ll start with the bedroom, I think that’s where most of her stuff is.”

Past the living room, down a small hall and to the left was the bedroom - a mirror sat on a dresser, across from a bed that was perfectly made. Another dresser rested nearby the closet, which seemed almost barebones for all the clothes it held.

“I’m not so stupid that I’d go looking through all her stuff, but I figure it’d be okay for you to - “ Markus cut himself off in surprise as Inien dropped to the ground. He relaxed some a moment later as, with one arm held out, she drew back from beneath the bed and deposited a small wooden chest onto the bedcovers.

“You’re still pretty stupid though,” Dont remarked with a smile. Markus simply glared as the girl on the floor commenced attempting to open the chest.

“How’d you know it was there?”

She shrugged. “I thought about where I’d store something secret if I had it, and my first thought was under my bed. Maybe check the drawers of the dressers for false bottoms, but - “

“They may be too small for that, yeah. I’d suggest a hidden panel in the closet, too, but I don’t think she came by here much. This much dust doesn’t settle in a month or two.”

“Exactly.” With a sharp _click_ the latch on the chest came undone and the lid popped open. A trio of trinkets sat inside, and Inien took each out and placed them on the bed one by one.

The first she removed was a mask in the shape of a crow, dark and familiar against the dull white bedsheets. The second, a likewise recognizable pristine silver locket with a shattered emerald in the center. After studying it for a couple seconds, she finally set down the last remaining item - a golden charm in the shape of a crescent moon, attached to a shining chain of the same color.

Markus pointed at each object in turn. “That’s the mask we’re looking for, so that’s done with. That’s the necklace Ashe and I were framed for stealing and I took after - “ He cut himself off, looking momentarily ashamed, before shaking his head and continuing. “But I don’t know where that other necklace is from. Dont?”

The pigbat fluttered forward and nudged the trinket experimentally with her nose. “Hm… I can sense the remnants of energy from it. Whatever it used to hold, it’s long gone now.”

Inien picked it back up by the chain, looked at the moon for a moment more, and slid it over her head. “What about the others?”

Dont placed one hoof in the air a hair’s width from the mask. “This is _definitely_ corrupted - it might’ve had to do with it being broken in the first place, but there’s no way to tell.” She gestured to Forest Jealousy. “This is also corrupted, but the spirit in it is just a baby - I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one in such bad shape so young. It might be hard to purify.”

“Hm.” Markus placed them back in the chest and closed the lid. “Anything else we should look for in here? Inien, Dont?”

Dont shook her head. “I can’t sense any other spirits. Just those two.”

“I’d rather leave, too. I don’t like the feel of this place.” Inien rubbed her arm. “The sooner we get out of here the better.”

“Alright, I’ll go call Gregor, if you two wanna wait outside.”

“Actually,” she looked up at him uncertainly. “If I could talk to you alone for a minute…?”

“Sure, Inien.” Markus’s gaze moved to the pigbat, who obediently flew over to the door. She fumbled with the knob for a minute before finally managing to open it and waiting outside.

“Markus?” Inien looked up at him and seemed to reconsider her next words a dozen times over. “How do you deal with… knowing that you’ve done terrible things? Unforgivable things?”

Markus’ expression flickered. For an instant it was surprise, then shifted to one momentarily of anger, before he seemed to realize exactly what she was asking. He looked away, seemingly content to let his gaze wander around the room and everywhere else. Finally, he spoke. “It’s hard. Having a perspective and worldview that’s so different from those around you and that they could never hope to understand. The fact of the matter is, whether I can justify it or not, I was a different person back then. We’re always different people, shaped by our companions and our experiences.”

He paused. “Everyone does things in their life that they regret, and some more terrible than others. If you want to get past it - _truly_ get past it - you have to recognize that you can’t change the past. The way I deal with it is recognize that I can help those I’ve wronged, and at the very least help the future.”

“And you don’t feel pressured by it? Or worried what others might think?” Her voice was small and thin, almost afraid, even if she didn’t sound hesitant. It was odd to hear from someone he used to be so afraid of.

Markus turned back to Inien and shrugged. “The only pressure I’m feeling is what I put on myself. Sure I could go back and take the evil route - pick up what… _she_ started, but I’ve got people who care about me and a life I enjoy living. If people judge me, they judge me - I can only hope to change their minds.”

She blinked, slowly, and nodded. “Thanks, Markus.”

“No problem.”

The two stood there for a moment, each seemingly uncertain as to what to do or say next. The brunette finally picked up the box off the bed and put its latch back in place, then followed the pigbat back out the door as Markus fished around in his pocket for his cell phone.

—

The station was busy as ever, although this time of year it was more with civil complaints than actual crimes. Gregor headed for his office to meet with Rowan, but found Captain Camberwell there as well, leaning against his desk while she talked with them.

“So hopefully in future you’ll have more to look at. Sorry again for not thinking your assignment through like I should’ve.” She looked up as Gregor appeared in the doorway. “My office, please,” she said.

Gregor nodded grimly and turned around, ignoring Rowan’s questioning stare. It was never good when Camberwell used polite phrasing.

The captain’s office was twice the size of his own, with room for three or four guests at a time and its own water cooler and coffee pot, both rarely used. Camberwell took a seat behind her desk and motioned for Gregor to sit as well.

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked.

Camberwell shook her head while opening a drawer. “Not really, this is more about… Not making a mistake, in future.” She grabbed a folder and shoved it across the desk at him. “Your work is faltering, Hartway.”

He didn’t need to look in the folder to know this was about the Phantom Thieves case, not with this morning’s events. He folded his hands in his lap. “I investigated to the best of my ability, Captain.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk and her head on her hands, her stare intense as she studied him. “Gregor,” she said, her voice much softer than her expression. “I’ve known you for a long time. This report is factually correct, as far as I can tell, and no one would blame you for not being able to resolve this case, since the thieves disappeared for weeks and this new event seems to be someone totally different. But I also know that you’re holding something back. You’re always thorough, but this…” She tapped the folder. “This is clinical. Too removed.”

Gregor didn’t meet her eyes. “I thought detectives were supposed to be impartial, according to the facts.”

Camberwell sighed. “That’s true, I suppose, but I endorsed your becoming a detective so that you could keep doing what you’ve gained a rep for. Connect with people, and use those connections to resolve a case better than most others would. I need my usual Gregor Hartway for that, not one that keeps secrets.”

He thought about that. They had known each other for a while, ever since he was very small. That did mean something, even if he couldn’t tell the whole truth. He finally looked at her, choosing his words carefully. “I promise you that I am not trying to dodge the truth of this case, or do anything other than protect the people of Braeden.”

She held his gaze for a few seconds that stretched into eternity, somber as a judge of souls. At last, she nodded. “I don’t know what’s going on, Hartway, but it seems you finally have more of a spine than just the law. I trust you here, but… Don’t give me any more bullshit like this case file. I have to make sure I can trust everyone in my jurisdiction, and you’re walking a thin line.” She was back to acting like the captain he was used to. “Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” Gregor stood up. “Is that all, then?”

“Not quite. Rowan needs street experience, even if they are going into forensics. Understanding of how to put together the layout of a potential scene. You’re back on the neighborhood beat, when you’re not handling things at Melinda. Shouldn’t be anything too heavy, around here, but still keep an eye on the kid. Make sure you go through thinking of escape paths and trajectory points and such with them.”

“Understood.”

“You can go, then.”

He saluted and left her office, glad for the second chance.

—

“So what exactly,” Thog regarded Markus, “is your plan?”

Thog was reclining in the chair in his office as Markus leaned on the desk. Behind them, Aesling held Forest Jealousy in her hands and Dont floated nervously over one shoulder as she attempted to purify it. “Be careful!” Dont exclaimed when the light enveloping the necklace flickered brightly. “You have to be _careful_! It’s just a baby!”

“So you keep saying,” Ashe mumbled back. “Doing this ‘carefully’ is hard when you’re not telling me how to make it careful.” She frowned, and the light dimmed some.

“There you go, just don’t flood it. Gently!” Dont insisted.

Markus waved the mask in his hand. “Simple. We put it somewhere they can’t get it, lie in wait, and then they come here looking for it and we ambush them.”

“And what happens if you can’t handle it?”

“Thog,” Markus said, narrowing his eyes and sounding mock-offended. “It sounds like you don’t _trust_ us!”

“I trust you with purifying spirits - not catching criminals.” Thog held his gaze.

“It’s not like we haven’t done it before! And not everything in our lives is spirit related, you know.” The blond held out his hands.

“And how do you know it’s not?” Dont appeared over his shoulder and he nearly jumped. “Most things seem to be.”

Markus rolled his eyes. “What’s the chance of there being _another_ dark magic infused Thief in - “

He was cut off by a sudden startled shout and a crack like lightning. Dont and Markus turned around to find Ashe, fluffy hair standing slightly straighter and fingertips singed.

She took the few steps forward to reach them, wordlessly deposited the necklace onto Thog’s desk, glared, and then turned hard on her heel. She was enveloped by a pillar of bright light seconds before opening the door to the office and then slamming it loudly shut as she exited.

As the curator inspected the now-repaired necklace, Markus continued, “ _Anyway_. I’ll go call Gregor, and we can all camp out tomorrow night. If they don’t come, then we know it’s just a regular thief and can do the same with an actual exhibit.” He paused. “Or any of your _actual_ security.”

Thog grinned. “Why would I need security when I’ve got you guys?”

Markus smiled back. “And here I thought you didn’t trust us.”

—

It took less than an hour of them waiting in the main gallery for anything to occur. The museum was pitch black save for the moonlight streaming in from the skylight and the Rogue absentmindedly playing with blue-tinted fire in his hands.

“Did it come back with anything?”

Gregor looked up to Ashe from where he had been experimentally twirling his glaive. “Did what?”

“The hair Rowan found in the display.”

“Oh.” He sighed and shook his head, long hair flopping everywhere. “Nope.”

“Glad to see that worked out.” Markus rolled his eyes.

“It’s more successful than _your_ plan thus far,” Gregor replied, though there was no malice in his tone. The museum fell into its usual eerie silence - though it lasted for considerably less time.

At the first uncertain sound - and the growing feeling of dread in the air - they all stood back-to-back in a circle, each suddenly alerted. The beams of light shone down on them from above like a spotlight. “Well, Markus,” Ashe whispered. “Looks like you were right.”

She could see something moving out of the corner of her eye, offset against the darkness of the museum’s shadows, yet it disappeared whenever she turned to look at it.

A few tense moments passed, the trio exchanging uncertain glances, before there was finally solid movement. It was so quick and so sudden, the shadow attacking with unnatural speed, that Ashe barely got the time to defend herself and clumsily blocked the blow with her sword clutched tightly in her left hand.

As quickly as it struck, the figure disappeared once more. “What the hell was that?” Ashe hissed to her companions as she took a few heavy breaths.

“They stole a mask. They might be like that one girl was.” Markus said as he drew his own blade.

“Mind controlled?”

The words were barely out of Ashe’s mouth before Gregor intercepted the next blow inches from Markus’ face. The figure leapt back, sliding across the tile floor. They moved to a surprisingly relaxed pose before throwing one of their weapons - a short scythe - into the air and catching it with ease.

They wore a hood and jeans, boots and gloves, and a purple scarf wrapped around their neck. Their face couldn’t be seen, covered by a dark mask in the shape of a fox, and accented in red and light blue. The moonlight caught the mask.

“Whoever that was must’ve not had any strength to back them up. The mask and I - now that it’s whole again - are one.” Lifting the mask ever so slightly, the figure beneath it grinned a toothy grin. “So I suppose you could call me the same thing you call it - _Zalvetta_.”

“They’ve got both pieces of the mask.” Gregor glanced over to the others, briefly worried, before Zalvetta moved again. They were a blur, and Ashe could finally place why.

They aimed to strike Ashe with one of their weapons, so she raised her blade once more. Moments before it made impact Zalvetta turned, adjusting their weight hard in mid air and throwing one leg up. They kicked her in the chin, whipping her head back; backflipped nimbly through the air before landing easily on the tiles; and then then leapt to the side. They quickly turned on Gregor in a flurry of curved metal.

Gregor spun his glaive like a baton, instinctively flinching back as he waited for the blows to land. A moment passed, then another, and another, and soon it became apparent they wouldn’t. Every ounce of his body laced with caution, he lowered his weapon, still gripping it tightly.

The Thief coughed from her spot on the floor, carefully raising her head to ensure that no permanent damage had been done. “The masks… enhance…” she managed through gasps.

“See, that’s the trick here.” Their opponent’s voice echoed through the empty halls, having melded back into the shadows once more. Markus tossed a ball of flame in the same direction he’d placed the voice, frowning as it exploded in a burst of light against the wall, revealing nothing. “ _Fear_ is as good a tactic as _pain_ \- especially when you fear that pain.”

The shadows shifted as Ashe tried to get back to her feet, Markus turning to grab her hand and help her up as she balanced uncertainly. “Haven’t you ever had those shadows that follow you out of the corner of your eye? That feeling of dread whenever the lights go out, that _terror?_ ”

Another flash of metal as Zalvetta sliced cleanly across Gregor’s back, dropping him to the floor with a groan of agony. The figure took a couple steps back, still grinning, as they continued. “There’s nothing left to fear, when you become _what_ you fear.”

Markus teleported, landing almost directly behind Zalvetta and swiping for them with one clawed hand. They expertly jumped away and turned to face him, then kicked off the floor and sliced through Markus’ claws with one scythe; the other was blocked with the rapier he wielded. Keeping their momentum, they kicked out with one leg. The Rogue vanished in a puff of smoke before the kick could land and Zalvetta spun into a low crouch, taking a few deep breaths as Markus reappeared across the room.

“ _I know you have it. I can hear it,_ ” they hissed, tone suddenly low and almost primal. “ _Where is it?_ ”

A long quiet hung in the air, the only sounds cutting through it the rapping of tree branches in the wind against the windows upstairs, and the trio’s heavy breathing, each watching the assailant uncertainly as their head whipped back and forth.

They froze, then rose from their crouch ever so slightly, attention focused on a distant spot with a gaze no one else could hope to follow. Their smile grew wider beneath their mask. “So that’s how it is.”

And then, in a blur, they vanished.

Markus got the cue and disappeared as well, leaving both Ashe and Gregor alone in the gallery. The Thief rubbed her aching neck and shoulder with one hand as she took a couple steps closer to the Warrior, then collapsed beside him. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled and propped himself up on one hand. “Hurts. No armor.”

“I think it’s a longer cut, rather than a deeper one.” Two of her armlets fell away, and she ignored the distant sounds of combat now reaching her newly-enhanced ears as her hands began to spark with energy. “I’m not the best at this, but I’ll do what I can. You trust me, right?”

Gregor, to his credit, seemed to consider his response. He opened his mouth but didn’t get the chance to reply before long streaks of electricity began to zigzag across his back. He simply closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, placed his forehead against his palms, and waited.

—

Markus appeared in Thog’s office only moments before Zalvetta did, nearly slamming into the desk from his blind teleporting. He vanished again a hair’s width from hitting it, then finally managed to realign into standing position by the wall, leaning against the doorframe for a moment as he gathered himself.

“I hate doing that,” he hissed, keeping both eyes on the intruder. Zalvetta stared off into the distance a little longer - just enough time for the Rogue to sneak up on them, rapier clutched tightly in his hand.

Markus swung hard, aiming straight for the intruder’s back. Where the blow should’ve impacted, however, it instead struck air - Zalvetta was already above him, mid-backflip, and landed behind him easily, boots momentarily squeaking against the wooden floor. As Markus spun to face them, they took advantage of the movement and darted forward.

The Rogue parried the swipe of the scythe in their right hand, only for Zalvetta to spin hard on their left foot and use the momentum to land a heavy kick against his ribs. He didn’t even get the chance to keel over in pain as the stranger finished their circle, moved the weapon from their right hand so that the left was now holding both, and wrenching him violently by the collar.

He had almost a foot - if not more - of height on them, but the force had shoved him to his knees and the mask now stared with unchanging ferocity into his eyes. “ _Where. Is. It?_ ” The mask turned, as though they were glancing aside, before shoving itself back into Markus’ face. Their tone lightened some, though their sounded no less hostile as they continued. “I can hear it in this room. There’s a trapdoor or something in here. How do I get into it?”

The blonde took a few chest-aching breaths. “What makes you think I’ll answer?” he croaked.

Zalvetta shoved him hard back and then forth again by the collar and he felt his breath catch from the painfully unexpected movement. “What makes you think you _won’t?”_

The duo stayed like that for a long few seconds before Markus sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Under the rug.”

They dropped him like a sack of potatoes and moved to the near-center of the room, pushing Thog’s chair aside and into a bookshelf and taking one scythe in each hand. Zalvetta cut a neat square out of the plush carpet, shoving the fabric aside and inspecting the latch waiting underneath. A swift tug revealed a small, secretive safe tucked away inside a hole no larger than a breadbox.

“What’s the combination?”

“What, the mask didn’t tell you that?” He heaved a few more heavy breaths. _If Ashe was trusting me at all again, there goes that._ They simply turned to face him and raised one scythe from their side. He got the message. “4-9. 5-0. 6-9.” _Speaking of which, where are they?_

_Click._

Markus did his best to ignore the stranger, too focused on letting the air back into his lungs as they stood up from beside the safe. They held the crow mask in their hand, inspecting it with a sharp smile so wide it almost looked painful. Zalvetta tucked the mask into their jacket, then walked past at a slow, casual pace, only stopping to nonchalantly pat the blond on the head.

The second the stranger stepped outside the room, the instant they caught the first beams of moonlight, they disappeared. Markus kept his eyes on the spot for at least a minute, half expecting them to reappear with the same playful ferocity, but when it became obvious they wouldn’t, he finally let himself drift sideways and lean hard against the wall.

_Well, Thog,_ his breath still ran heavy and ragged, though it was starting to come easier. _You were right. We couldn’t handle it._

He turned his head, slowly, to the torn up carpet and narrowed his eyes. “And he’s probably not gonna be happy about _that_.”


	8. The Sign is There for a Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keep out” should be all that it really has to say.

“So what if we all get our projects together, and help each other decorate? It’d be cute,” Selena suggested.

Aeva shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if they slam us for plagiarism?”

“It’s not like we’re sharing topics, just aesthetics. Isn’t that what you’re all about?”

Aeva rolled her eyes towards Eileen. “Right, because her ‘aesthetic’ and mine totally match up.”

Eileen stuck her tongue out without even looking up from her book. Selena shook her head and turned away from them. “What do you think, Kels?”

“What?” Ashe looked up from her dinner plate, startled out of her train of thought. “Sorry, I - I must’ve zoned out. What’re we talking about?”

“The lit projects due right after winter break,” Eileen explained. “And the posterboards or whatever we have to do to go with them.”

“Oh.” Ashe shrugged. “I think it’d be fun to work on them together, if we all have free time around the holidays. Aeva, isn’t your family going to the Caribbean or something?”

“Every year.” She sighed, putting one hand to her cheek. “I keep saying we should go skiing or something. My ghostly pallor will fade under tropical sun, but my parents don’t seem to understand.”

Selena patted her on the shoulder. “It’ll be alright, I’ll send you some of the skin care tips I’ve found recently, alright? Maybe some of them will help.”

“Thanks.”

Ashe bit her lip, wanting to say something but unsure what. Before, she’d have her own jokes to make, but now? She kept turning down invitations to hang out, asking for class notes, could barely keep track of what everyone was up to. She was too distant to give her friends grief anymore. Her chest felt tight, and she knew she had to get out of here. She stood up suddenly, picking up her still-half-full plate. “I think I have a stomachache. I’m gonna go lay down.”

“Have something with peppermint,” Eileen suggested. “I’ll come check up on you later?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Ashe forced a smile, hoping to allay their concerns, then took her dishes up to the collection bin and left the dining hall. She felt better the second she stepped outside, the crisp air chilling her nerves a bit.

“Kels!”

She’d barely gone a dozen feet from the dining hall. Ashe sighed, and turned around to wait for her friend. “Yeah, Lena?”

Selena fell into step next to her, headed for the dorms. “I wanted to make sure you got back okay,” she said.

“What about dinner?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care much for anything they’ve got tonight, and I have some snacks in my room. I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

They walked in silence for a minute, Ashe fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve and Selena readjusting her headband every few steps. “Look, Kelly,” Selena said finally, “is everything okay? I’m worried about you.”

Ashe thought about that. “I’m alright,” she said. “I just have a lot going on. What with being sick and all.”

“Which you’ve never been, and you never talk about your aunt and uncle making you go to a doctor or anything.” Selena sighed, then stepped in front of Ashe, forcing her to stop. “You can talk to us, you know? We’re all here for you. Whatever it is.”

She forced a smile. “I told you, I’m okay, really. I just have a lot on my mind lately.”

Selena stared her down, before sighing in defeat. “Alright. Just… It feels like, ever since Halloween, or maybe a little before that, you’ve been… distant? Like there’s something big looming over you. Or maybe you’re afraid to talk to us? And - you know, maybe that’s not that far off. I still don’t quite understand what happened during the party prep, and that was…”

Ashe’s chest tightened as her heart skipped a beat, remembering. The snake necklace, and Markus having to be the one to help her friends. “Selena, I’m not afraid of you, or Aeva or Eileen - ”

“I know.” Selena said. She moved her bag to her other arm. “But there was something lurking in me, wasn’t there? And I’m still dealing with that. So maybe when all of that happened you found something about yourself, too. I just want you to know that it’s alright to lean on all of us, okay? We’re your friends, and we’re here to help. No matter what the problem is, Kels.”

Ashe shook her head. She couldn’t take that offer. There was no way she wouldn’t let something slip, and put her friends in more danger. No way. “I… I have to go,” she said instead.

Selena nodded, although her expression was still concerned. “Alright.” She stepped to the side. “I hope you feel better, Kels.”

Ashe hurried to her room, pausing just long enough to lock the door and drop her bag. Then she transformed, needing to feel the kind warmth of her magic, needing to find something useful to do.

She slid out her window and headed for the museum as stars began to fill the sky, a path she hadn’t taken in quite a while.

—–

Even though the museum was closed, it wasn’t empty. Markus and Kyr were there, standing outside a door at the far end of the hall across from the break area, with Gregor looking on from a few feet away, uncertain.

“What’s going on?” Ashe asked as she approached.

Markus looked up briefly, then did a double-take, but apparently decided not to question her appearance. Kyr also looked surprised, but followed his lead - the two had become fast friends, somehow. “We’re going to check out this room,” the teacher explained.

“Isn’t that the room that has a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign on it?” Ashe stood on her tiptoes, trying to see around Markus as he fiddled with the door’s lock and a bent paper clip in his hands.

“It is,” Gregor confirmed. “But they’re determined. Markus texted me for backup, and I thought I might as well be here in case something breaks.”

“Where the hell is Thog?”

“Getting paperwork for Inien, making sure he’s her legal guardian and they have her school figured out and all.” Markus stood up as a faint _click_ sounded. “And then I guess went home since that took so long? Anyways, come on, Kyr says he saw some strong aura from here with his glasses.”

“We’re not going in there, Markus,” Ashe insisted.

“It’s probably just a broom closet, you know.”

“Yeah, and it says to ‘Keep Out’. I don’t like intruding on other people.”

“But don’t you think we should know everything that’s here, the full layout of the museum? So we can spring a better trap for that guy next time?”

Ashe shook her head, but she was too tired to keep arguing. Or to start a conversation they’d already had. “Gregor?”

He bit his lip. “I don’t want to, but I also want to make sure I know everything that’s here. I’m done with not knowing things that’ll help people.”

Markus smiled, gentle and reassuring instead of the triumph that Ashe would’ve expected of him. “Then without further ado…” He pushed the door open, revealing what looked to be a gallery. There shouldn’t have been room for it, between the main part of the museum and the outside wall.

Kyr switched the lenses on his spirit-sensing glasses. “Okay yeah, there’s definitely something in there,” he muttered, wincing slightly. “There’s like - a lot. A lot of different energies.”

“Then let’s go!” Markus stepped into the gallery, the others following him.

Ashe started to say something about how the others should transform, only for the gallery to disappear. They were swamped in absolute darkness, cold and thick and heavy. As soon as it closed around them, Ashe felt something else as well. Like a cut tether, or the drop that happens when stepping on air, expecting a step. She tried to call up her sword, or even her whip, only to realize she couldn’t.

“I’m not transformed anymore,” she whispered. “Guys?”

“Right here.” She couldn’t help jumping a bit as she felt someone back into her, presumably Gregor. “This isn’t good.”

“The door’s gone!” Kyr whined, his voice high and panicked. “What do we do?”

“Stay close - ow!” There was a thump, followed by scuffling, and then Markus was suddenly there at Ashe’s side. “Sorry, i tripped,” he mumbled. A moment later she felt Kyr stumble his way into them, while Markus continued, “It feels like - I can’t reach for my transformation. My magic.”

“ _Dont’s_ transformation,” Gregor corrected. “Maybe we should use the backups she gave us? It might that whatever’s here is keeping us from connecting with her, since she’s not.”

Ashe nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.” She remembered fighting Gregor’s double. “Just - be careful, guys, these things hurt a lot.”

She focused on the mark Dont had given her, the way of calling forth her magic. It actually burned, but when she opened her eyes, she could kind of see. Markus looked confused but had taken his glasses off, and Gregor had his glaive in hand.

Ashe reached for her sword, calling it into being very slowly. “Okay. I think this is the best we can hope for right now.”

Kyr nodded. “You guys are putting off light,” he pointed out. “We might want to proceed with caution, something might see us. Or…” He stepped back, outside the soft glow that surrounded them. They heard a yelp and then he was next to them again, shuddering a little. “Okay, the dark is enough that once I get like. A foot away I can’t even see you guys. So I guess we should all still stay close to each other?”

“Right. So I guess our way out is finding the spirit at the center of this?”

“Hold on a moment.” Gregor was looking down at his glaive, brow furrowed in concentration. “I think I can…” Suddenly the etchings on it started to glow, and they could at least see the entirety of the room they were in. The light wavered slightly, as if they were underwater, but at least it was consistently bright. “The spirit here says it wants to help us, and that it’d be too boring if I died already.”

Markus laughed, although it was a little coarse and hesitant. “I never expected that spirit to have a mouth like that… Tell it we’ll take care of you.”

“Let’s just get moving!” Ashe insisted. She almost thought the darkness was biting at her, the aura of the place continuing to press down on her even as Gregor’s glaive kept some of it at bay. She moved towards the door that was in front of them, leading deeper into what they’d all thought was an empty gallery.

She waited before opening it, and thought she could hear something large on the other side. Footsteps, and shifting weight hitting narrow walls on either side. It paused for a moment, allowing her to also hear heavy breathing, and then -

_Screeeeeeeeeeeech._

Ashe leaped back, bumping into Markus as he tried to step up next to her, sending them both sprawling across the floor. “There’s something out there,” she whispered. “And I think it knows we’re here - I think it just scratched at that door to get us.”

Gregor’s hands tightened on his glaive. “Then let’s get rid of it.”

Ashe shook her head. “I think it’s too much, even for all three of us. We have to find a way out - hold on!” She motioned for quiet, and was just able to hear whatever it was moving away from their door.

Kyr kept tapping his fingers against his leg, looking around as if appraising everything, all of their options. “So how do we get around?”

“I think it - I think there’s a hallway? It sounded like, anyways. If we run straight across, hopefully there’s a door?”

“Let me go first,” Gregor said. “I’ve got the light, I can find a door the easiest.”

“Of course.” Markus got to his feet, then stepped up so he could throw the door open for Gregor. “And, guys? Sorry for getting us in here.”

“Apologize later,” Ashe said, eyes locked on the warrior. “Let’s just get ready to run.”

“One, two, three!” Gregor counted off, then sprang forward. Markus swung the door wide enough for him to charge through, waiting for Ashe and Kyr to follow Gregor before stepping into the hallway himself.

They could barely see ten feet to either side. There was a loud snuffling noise, then a roar that set everyone’s hair on end. While there was no  door directly across from them, Gregor picked a direction and ran, finding one just a few more feet away. The others were careful to stay in the circle of light cast by his glaive.

He tried the handle. “It’s locked!”

Markus jumped forward. “Then let me!” He called up a flickering ball of blue fire, shoving it into the doorknob. A second later it detonated and the door swung forward just as they heard footsteps rounding a corner. Another roar echoed through the halls, much closer.

“Guys, c’mon!” Kyr insisted, glasses over his eyes again. “Whatever that thing is, its aura is darker than the rest of this place!”

“Then _move!”_ Ashe shoved him at the door. All four of them got into the room and closed it just as the footsteps caught up to where they’d been. One last cry from the spirit, whatever it was, and then it moved away.

“I think…. So long as we’re… Not in that hall… It can’t come after us,” Gregor said, trying to catch his breath.

“Seems so.” Ashe looked around. They’d reached a room with three tall crystals equidistant from each other. Under them, and on one other spot on the floor, was a circle lined with symbols. But inside the crystals were…

She took a deep breath, and stepped in the middle of the triangle space the crystals made. One held Inien the witch, knife in the ground and gemstone bindings broken, arms raised as if welcoming something to herself. The second encased her father, expression stern as ever as he looked over his shoulder at her. And the third - she could barely look, but also couldn’t turn away - was Selena, skin replaced by snake scales, a heavy necklace at her throat, and Ashe’s own sword lodged in her chest.

Ashe tried to breathe, but found she couldn’t. Her heart was hammering, her throat tight, and she couldn’t look away from any of it. They had to be illusions, _had to_ , but each scene seemed to carry with it more than simple sight. She could sense her energy fading as she died at Inien’s feet, the fear of her father demanding she do as he said, the visceral and sickening push of steel going through flesh, she could hear Selena screaming and screaming with pain and betrayal -

Markus grabbed her arm, startling her out of her trance. He pulled her to him, and she realized she was just a step away from the empty circle. “It’s just an illusion, Ashe, just a spirit messing with your mind.”

He was shaking, even while trying to comfort her. “Can you see them, too?” She looked up, realized that she had been crying. She wiped at her face, hoping none of the others had noticed.

“My throat being slit, and dodging an attack only to have you two get hit, and my parents,” he said coldly. “But I use more magic than you, so I think I can resist it.”

“Mister Fiyore and Gregor…?” Ashe asked, pushing away from Markus.

Kyr and Gregor were actually staring at each other, Kyr looking sheepish alongside his fright and Gregor white-knuckled and tight-lipped.

Markus frowned. “Are you guys alright?”

“It’s nothing,” Kyr said, taking a deep breath. “Something that’s - that was a bit rough, is all.”

Gregor shook his head, looking confused, as if he was trying to puzzle something out. “I just…” He looked at Kyr again. “Nevermind. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Kyr nodded, then looked at Ashe. “Markus pulled both of us back before we could be ensnared, then pulled you out of it. Seems physical touch can snap you away from whatever these cause.” He adjusted his glasses, looking around. “And - ah.” He pointed upwards.

The three Guardians looked up, and saw a gear of sorts. Ropes or chains went from it to the walls, and down to the tops of the crystals.

“There’s an aura from that gear,” Kyr explained. “Can’t you guys sense it this close?”

“I don’t think so, without borrowing Dont’s power.” Ashe took a deep breath, still trying to steady herself. _It wasn’t real. Markus saved Selena. My friends are okay._ “So what do we do?”

“The door lines up with the empty space,” Gregor pointed out. “So if we can activate it somehow, it might move the door?”

Markus was crouched by the empty symbol, frowning. “It’s a trap. I recognize some of these runes from Inien’s experiments. Anyone that steps up here will be trapped. Meaning there’s probably something that will attack us, freed from the other crystals.”

Kyr raised his hand. “I’ll be the bait.”

“You don’t have to - ” Markus started, but Kyr cut him off.

“I can’t fight, so anything that comes out is up to you guys. You got this.” Without further ado, Kyr walked over to the empty circle and stepped into it. Another crystal appeared around him, and the walls of the room started to turn. One of the other crystals disappeared, revealing a monster with burned skin and heavy arms. It swung at them, blindly.

Ashe jumped away from it. “Markus!” she said. “Can you teleport?” She’d been watching the top when Kyr stepped into the circle, and something had - momentarily - flickered from within the gear.

He threw a flame at the creature, which recoiled from the heat. “Maybe?” His face screwed up for a moment. “No, I don’t think so, just use the rest of my magic and call up my sword.”

“Alright then. Gregor? Think you can throw me up there and then knock that thing back into its spot?”

He looked at the monster as it attempted to pat out the fire, then up at the ceiling, before nodding at Ashe. “Yeah.”

“Alright.” She took a few steps back, then ran at him. Gregor held his glaive out, at an angle, and as her foot hit it he swung up. The combined strength from their respective magics was enough that Ashe could reach the ceiling. She grasped for the gear, latching onto it, barely able to hold onto the small space between it and the ceiling itself.

She looked down in time to see Gregor and Markus on either side on the monster, making it back up with a combination of Gregor’s light and Markus’ fireballs. When it stepped back into its circle, Ashe looked up again. A panel in the center of the gear opened, revealing an orb of some sort. She grabbed it, focusing as much as she could onto it. She didn’t know if she could purify something properly like this, but she could at least pour all of her energy in and hope for the  best.

She heard shattering glass, and then the gear turned to dust. The orb transformed into a puzzle box of some sort, made of twisting layers and moving panels. She fell, barely managing to land on her feet. She looked around in time to see pieces of the crystal also turning to dust, and the creatures inside dissipating like mist.

Kyr hiccuped as he stepped out of the magic circle, shaking slightly. “Did it work?”  
  
“I think so.” Markus gestured to the walls, each now holding a door,  then moved over and gripped Kyr’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“It was…” The teacher shuddered. “Stuff that I thought I was past. I’ll live.” He hit himself in the chest and rolled his shoulders back, causing Markus to back off. “I am Kyr Fiore, and I will not be owned by my past!” he shouted, the suddenness of it making Ashe jump.

She bit her lip. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “It helps to assert things like that sometimes. But we should keep moving, right?”

“Definitely.” Gregor pointed to the door leading further away from where they’d entered. “Let’s try there.” He pressed his ear against it, nodding after a moment. “I think it’s not the hallway.”

“Then let’s move. I don’t want to find out if that big spirit heard me.”

They proceeded to the next room. Ashe tucked the puzzle box into her pocket, just in case. This room was larger than the previous, with what looked like an old furnace at the end. Something industrial, like a forge used to craft weapons.

Markus bounded ahead, inspecting it. “There doesn’t seem to be anything here,” he commented. “Just an old coal.”

“Who you callin’ old!” The voice was sharp, coming from the furnace.

The three of them approached cautiously, crowding around Markus. “Is someone here?” Ashe asked.

“Yeah, me! Here!” The coal suddenly lit up, glowing a faint red. “I’m here! And you’re…” Its voice faded, and the next time it spoke it was much gentler. “Is that my general? Have you finally come back, sir?”

“Who do you mean, buddy?” Gregor asked.

“You! Your energy is so much more vibrant than this lot. Cooler. Darker. And no one else could make it past old Rubble in the other room but you, sir!” The light around the coal flashed brighter as it spoke, growing more excited.

“Uh.” Gregor looked at the others, silently asking for help.

“Yes, he is your general,” Markus said. “But he’s, um. Still acclimating. To his new body. Can you tell us about this place?”

“Mweheehee! I knew it was only a matter of time before some humans wandered in here that you could possess! Good job, sir! But who’re these louts? Why’re you letting them serve you?”

Gregor shrugged. “I, uh. They pledged… They cowered before me! They were all in fear of me!” he said, halting and awkward as he fumbled through the lie. “I took this human because it refused to bow, but the rest pledged their fealty.”

“As well they should!” The coal cackled again. “Well, sir, if your memory was damaged by the possession, it’s my greatest honor to remind you! This is the Prison of Lights, made by that horrible ghastly lantern spirit. If her human servants can’t eradicate something, her traitor of a follower seals us in here. You and I were sent here at the same time, sir! If you want out, you’re gonna need Rubble’s help, and one of these humans to activate the door at the end.”

“Thank you,” Gregor said to the coal. “Now, you, um…. You stay here, okay? I’m going to find another human to feed to you, that you can possess.”

The coal flickered angrily. “Why can’t I have one of them?” it whined.

“Because, uhhh. We’re all weak!” Ashe blurted out.

“Yes, very!” Kyr chimed in. “We’re tiny and small and not at all worthy of your spirit.”

The coal seemed to accept that. “Alright. I await your return, sir! Good luck!”

They all backed away from the furnace. Ashe took the puzzle box out of her pocket as they headed for another door. “‘Rubble’s help’… Do you think he meant this?” she whispered.

“Probably.” They reached the other door. They could hear the large spirit - or whatever it was - outside, but moving away. Markus looked around. “We should just. Run for it, right? Find a way out.”

Kyr nodded, although he was shaking again. “Definitely. Let’s just run for it.”

“Straight as we can, until we find another door,” Ashe agreed.

“Everyone ready?” Gregor asked, hand on the doorknob. Only once they’d all nodded did he push the door open, charging into the hall. Ashe was the last out of the room, but as soon as she crossed the doorway the puzzle box made a noise. She looked down at it. The panels were moving on their own, revealing a small green light that pointed the opposite way they were facing. “Guys!” she called. “This way, I think!”

“What?” Gregor stumbled to a halt, turning back towards her.

She held up the box. “This way!”

The guys all turned to follow her, Gregor racing ahead of Markus and Kyr so that he could light the way as best as possible. The hallway was long, but at the end was a T-intersection, and the light from the puzzle box arced in a turn as they approached it. They followed it, around two more corners and down a side path they would’ve overlooked otherwise.

There was a bellowing behind them, followed by heavy footsteps. “Go, go, go!” Kyr shouted, starting to panic.

Suddenly, the walls opened up around them. They weren’t in a hallway anymore, but instead a wide chamber. The puzzle box glowed in its entirety now, but that meant they couldn’t be sure which of the three paths ahead of them to take.

There was a scrabbling behind them, a hiss, a loud skittering noise and a _thump!_ as whatever chased them slammed into a wall.

“Pick a direction!” Markus said.

Gregor bolted left, Ashe right, Kyr straight ahead. Markus swore and went after Kyr.

Ashe bit back a curse as she realized they’d separated. She could see a little further than her own sphere, thanks to the puzzle box. Enough to see the edge of the path at least, the sharp drop on either side of her, and then - one ahead, too! She skidded to a stop and whirled around, trying to figure out where to go. Should she backtrack? Wait for the others?

The footsteps grew louder. It had chosen to follow her. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and pocketed the puzzle box again. She held her sword in front of herself, ready to face down whatever it was.

A large shape formed out of the darkness, round and uneven. Its form was uncertain, mixing with the shadows around them, and a white mask clung to the body. It roared at her as it stepped closer, and the darkness seemed to grow even heavier, literally pushing her down to her knees.

She could hear a voice, just barely, at the edge of her awareness. “ _Poor Aesling,_ ” it purred. “So determined, so useless. Can’t save your friends. Can’t keep others out of spirit affairs. Can’t even trust your own teammates. They’re all going to realize that you don’t do anything soon enough, when the dark rogue learns to purify…”

“No!” She screamed, as the monster inched closer to her. It moved almost apprehensively, careful of the narrow platform. She forced herself to stand, to hold her sword up. The voice continued, throwing everything at her, every doubt she’d had since starting this. “ _Inexperienced. Reckless. Weak._ ”  She shook her head, trying to ignore it.

The masked spirit was directly in front of her now, looming over her. The voice grew louder. Her grip faltered, her sword started to droop. She had to attack it, had to stab at it _now_ , to hopefully keep it from going after the others at the very least -

Then there was a light next to her as Gregor appeared at her side, just barely landing on the platform. He tried to slash at the spirit, but it backed away on its own, hissing at the light his glaive emitted. As soon as it moved away the voice stopped, and the shadows around them were just unsettlingly thick instead of oppressive.

“Come on,” Gregor said, grabbing Ashe around the waist. She held onto him as he jumped again, back the way he’d come from, bringing them to the center where Kyr and Markus waited. They were backed up against a large door, Kyl’il’s symbol filling a large portion of the center. Both of them had their hands pressed against it, the symbol slowly lighting up. _Too_ slowly.

Ashe pressed her own palms against the smooth stone of the door, while Gregor kept his eyes down the path, focusing on where the monster might attack them from.

More skittering footsteps, followed by slower ones. The door started to creak open, no faster than the symbol had been lit. Ashe saw Markus clasp his hands over his ears, Kyr falling to his knees. Even Gregor was starting to waver, under the full brunt of the spirit’s attention.

 _BANG! BANG!_ Two gunshots. “Get up, you idiots!” a voice shouted.

Ashe saw the spirit hesitate to come at them. She grabbed the back of Gregor’s shirt and pulled. He stumbled back across the threshold. She grabbed Kyr and Markus, trying to heave them both up. As soon as she touched them they seemed to come to a little, pushing themselves forward.

The doors slammed shut after them. They were on a flight of stairs leading up, and Ashe could just see a shape that looked like the lighthouse at the top of them. Their savior whispered something as he made some motions over the door. Only when the light had faded from it, leaving them bathed in natural starlight barely visible past the lip of the stairs, did he turn to them.

“What the _fuck_ were you all thinking?!” Thog demanded.

Ashe didn’t answer right away. Instead she moved closer to her friends, all four of them huddling together, drawing comfort from the fact that they were alive. Maybe not _well_ , but _alive_ at the least, and together.

“Well?” Thog prompted after a minute, although his voice was much gentler.

“I was curious,” Markus mumbled. “And you weren’t there to tell us no, so we decided to check out that room you never showed us.”

“Don’t be mad at him!” Ashe said, before Thog could say anything. “None of us told him not to, not really, and I… I wanted to go, too. I didn’t…” The words made her throat tight. The words spilled out before she could think twice. “I needed to feel useful, but there was nothing to fight, so I didn’t argue too much even though I knew better.”

“None of us argued, really,” Gregor added quietly.

Thog sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re all idiots,” he said. “You could’ve asked - at this point, I would tell you. Except for you,” he said, with a pointed look at Kyr. “I still don’t know or trust you. But you might as well know now. It’s a place for the dark spirits that are too strong for the Spirit Guardians. It connects to the museum and the base of the lighthouse, so that both Kyl’il and I can keep an eye on it at any given time - when I saw the door had been messed with on my end, I came here hoping to borrow her magic to track you guys down in there.”

“That lines up with what we heard,” Kyr said. “From that coal? But if it’s stuff that’s too strong, how did Ke - how did Ashe…?”

Thog looked at her. “Did you actually purify one of them?”

She nodded, and fumbled in her pocket for the puzzle box before holding it out to him.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Thog said, taking it from her. He actually smiled, just briefly, then looked at them all. “You guys did a good job, all of you. But _ask_ next time, okay?” He stepped back to give them all room. “Hell, I’ll even treat you all to a meal for that.”

“Free food? I’m in,” Markus said, groaning as he stretched out his back from his huddled position.

“I could use some dinner,” Kyr agreed, and Gregor nodded as well.

Ashe got to her own feet, but shook her head. “I should… I want to go, but I have something else to do,” she said. “I’ll see you guys soon.” She started walking up the steps, sighing with relief as she came to the open space at the back of the lighthouse, ocean ahead of her and flowers all around. Without waiting to hear arguments, she transformed, basking in the warmth of her full magic.

“Be careful!” she heard one of them call after her.

—–

Ashe got back to her dorm quickly. She wanted to just collapse into bed, but there was something else she had to do first. She stopped by the games closet at the end of the hall, then headed for Selena’s room.

She knocked and Selena opened the door quickly, revealing Aeva on the floor and an open book meaning that Eileen had probably left for a snack run. “Kels!” Selena said cheerily. “Are you feeling better?”

“A bit.” She held up the deck of playing cards she’d grabbed, a little sheepishly. “Do you guys want to play for a while?”


	9. The Wandering Guardian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger comes to town, and he’s hunting for the woman who ruined his life… unaware that she’s now a (mostly) harmless child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains description of eye gore

“Isn’t it too cold for ice cream?” Markus grumbled, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

“You’re the one that said you would treat me to whatever I wanted,” Inien answered. “And I feel like ice cream.”

Ashe giggled at that. “She has a point, Markus. You are going to spoil her rotten at this point.”

“More like sweet, with all these desserts,” Inien said. “But you do make it way too easy to take advantage, Markus.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to Gregor for support. “Did everyone have to come along?”

Gregor shrugged. “We were all there, and none of us feel like going home yet, so it makes the most sense to tag along.”

Dont, riding on Gregor’s shoulder, nodded. “Yep! There’s too much fun in spending time with everyone.”

“ _HEY!_ ” A voice called from further down the street. A figure stood at the top of the hill, almost as if they were looking over the group. They were simply a silhouette, features unidentifiable with the setting sun at their back.

Inien froze where she stood, brow furrowing as her bright eyes narrowed in confusion. “I - I think I know that voice. Where…?”

The figure came sprinting along the sidewalk, appearance growing clearer as they approached. He had a disheveled mop of brown hair, and wore a white t-shirt and faded jeans. Bandages wrapped around his hands and feet, and a colorful cloth in cool colors covered the left side of his face, leaving his single golden eye watching Ashe as he caught her gaze.

He paused a dozen or so yards from them before kicking off his sandals. “I know you all possess the powers of spirits,” he said in a voice low and hoarse, coupled with an accent it took Ashe a moment to place as British. “I also know you have the sorceress Inien with you. I believe in civility - you may choose to defend her yourselves, or step aside and allow me to slay her where she stands.”

Ashe barely got the chance to share an uncertain look with Gregor before Markus was already transformed, rapier gripped tightly in his right hand. She grabbed her pin and followed suit, Gregor doing the same with his badge out of the corner of her eye. Inien took an uncertain step back as Ashe drew the Sword of the Shrine and Gregor set his glaive in an offensive stance. Dont flew out of the way, her wings trailing a faint light as she circled above all of them.

“You realize she’s just a kid,” Markus began as he took a step forward, but didn’t get the chance to finish as the stranger struck him hard in the chest with a fist wrapped in cloth. The blow sent him flying onto his back.

“You’ve made your choice,” the stranger stated. Ashe readied her weapon as he reached up to his head and removed the cloth, then rewound it over the other side of his face. An almost-glowing eye of piercing orange now watched them  - scars grew out around it, covering the skin the makeshift eyepatch had hidden.

“You stand before Colvin ‘Ethos’ Jun! After many years, I have come seeking the truth.” he settled into a low stance. “And that truth… is _vengeance_.”

Aesling moved back to stand in front of Inien, who was either genuinely unfazed or was keeping it together surprisingly well. She held her sword in her left hand, and continually clenched and unclenched her right, glancing back and forth between her companions and their new foe.

“He’s not a Guardian…” Dont mused as she appeared suddenly beside Colvin, then shrieked and fluttered aside as his fist impacted the air she’d been occupying a mere moment before. She settled onto Inien’s head in a half-crouch, looking uncertain as everyone prepared themselves.

To Ashe’s surprise, it was Gregor who struck first. He ran the blade of his glaive through his hair, and where there hadn’t been one before, a tie wrapped around it as his shoulderplate disappeared. Gripping his weapon tightly in both hands, he dove for Colvin, slashing and slicing as his opponent narrowly dodged each blow. After a minute he paused, panting hard for breath. The Warrior turned back to lock eyes with Markus, then nudged his head in Colvin’s direction. Markus got the message.

The Rogue carefully got up from the ground and then, treading lightly along the cement, took his place behind Colvin. Gregor nodded ever so slightly, and in tandem, they charged. Colvin stood stock still until Gregor finally swung his glaive - in a single, skilled movement, Colvin was in the air, tumbling over the Warrior. The two Guardians had just enough time to turn their weapon’s edges away from each other before they slammed headfirst into each other, landing on the ground in a jumble and rubbing their now-spinning heads.

“Idiots,” Inien muttered behind Ashe. She turned to glare and, to her astonishment, the younger girl slunk away, looking shameful. They each bit back a yelp as Ashe turned just in time to barely block Colvin’s next strike with her blade. She took advantage of his surprise to bat him back with a couple more blows. He narrowed his single eye and it seemed to glow, however slightly, for an instant - but before he could move to begin another attack, Markus was quite literally on him. He thrust his rapier at his opponent, then flinched and teleported aside when it bent as it made contact with Colvin’s fist, denting from the force alone.

“It’s worse than when we fought Zalvetta,” he looked, dismayed, at his weapon, then back to Colvin. “What, are you going to cut through my claws, too?”

The stranger didn’t respond, still in his stance and waiting for either of them to move. Ashe and Markus shared an understanding glance before each charging towards their enemy. Markus led, claws outstretched, and Ashe supported him with her sword. Colvin leapt back, avoiding Markus’s attack, then leaned forward and clocked the Rogue in the side of the head. He ducked under Ashe’s swipe and did the same, leaving them both on the ground.

Gregor leaned on his glaive and attempted to pull himself back to his feet, but Colvin beat him to it, already at his target before Gregor could blink.

Colvin pulled his fist back, but, after seeing the fight, Inien ducked before his punch could land. She adjusted her stance, threw all her weight into her leg, and kicked Colvin as hard as she could in the shin.

He crumpled.

“Why didn’t any of us think to do that?” Ashe grumbled as she slowly moved to get back onto her feet. She offered Markus her hand and he gratefully took it.

“Because you all fight _fair_ ,” Inien replied with a smirk. “Now are we going to get rid of this weirdo or what? C’mon Gregor, you’re a police officer, arrest him!”

“He _did_ attack us, with intent to kill,” Gregor nodded, though he made no move to transform back, still gripping his glaive warily. Colvin lay on the sidewalk, biting his lip in pain.

“But what did he want?” Ashe looked to the prone form, then Inien. “You said that his voice sounded familiar, and he knew that we’re Guardians. For all we know he could spout the whole story to the police, and even if they don’t believe him, they could investigate it further. Gregor could end up in huge trouble.”

Markus pointed his dented sword at Colvin. “Explain who you are and why you’re after Inien and we _may_ be _merciful_.”

“Markus…”

“He tried to kill her!”

“And she tried to kill you, but look at both of you now. The past is in the past.” Ashe crossed her arms.

“Every pond, however still… has felt ripples.” Colvin huffed from the ground. He rolled onto his back to look up at them, bandaged hands each wrapped around his assaulted leg. “I believe I introduced myself already.”

“That’s right, Colvin… ‘Ethos’?” The Thief stared off into the distance for a moment, deep in thought. “Why does that sound so familiar? Wait, were you part of that boyband from a few years back? ‘The Truths’, or whatever it’s called?” At the others’ bemused looks, she rolled her eyes. “Wren has a poster of them on her wall. I’ve heard their music before, it’s pretty good.”

“That would be me, yes. Thank you.” He continued to watch them with his brilliant orange eye, which now seemed to almost be looking through them. Still, he studied them each for a long moment before he continued. “I am willing to answer your questions on the condition you tell me why you’re _defending_ that witch. I will say that she ruined my life, and that my vengeance is just - but I don’t think the rest should exactly be discussed in public. I understand the need for secrecy, and I’m sure you all do as well.”

Markus didn’t move. “You already blew your chance at negotiating or discussion, and certainly any chance at _secrecy_ when you attacked us in broad daylight.”

Dont huffed angrily, once more perched on Gregor’s shoulder. “Yeah! Do you have any idea how tiring it is to make a barrier against human senses, so that they want to ignore a space?”

“At least he had the respect to allow us to transform and defend ourselves.”

Markus frowned. “You’re playing devil’s advocate here, Ashe.”

She glared back. “Look who’s talking!”

He winced, cheeks momentarily tinging red. He turned his head away from her, though he kept both of his burning blue eyes trained on their fallen foe. “Alright, alright, get up from the ground, Colvin. Where do you want to talk?”

“It would be easiest to discuss this in my apartment, if you don’t mind.” Colvin slowly turned over onto his hands and knees before rising. “It’s only a few blocks from here.”

“Treating him as harmless a little _too_ quickly, don’t you think?” Inien murmured, and the group all turned to her as they seemed to suddenly remembered she was still there.

“I’ll take Inien home,” Gregor put one hand on her shoulder, ignoring her irritated look as he did so. “Coming with us, Markus, Ashe?”

Markus said nothing, still staring hard at Colvin with his lips pressed into a line.

“Yes, he is.” Ashe put one hand on his back and pushed him gently towards the pair.

He turned to look at her in something resembling surprise. He leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. “You trust _him?”_

“I trust you, don’t I?” She glanced at Inien, then back to Markus. “He seems reasonable, and with her past, I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s not like I can’t defend myself. I’ll take Dont with me if you’re really that worried, and she can go for help if I need it.”

Markus’ frown deepened, but he didn’t argue. “Alright. If you get hurt, though, I’m never letting you hear the end of it.” He took a couple steps towards Inien and Gregor. “Let’s get back to the museum, then. We should probably make sure that Jay hasn’t driven Thog crazy by now. Is his wing doing better?”

“Yeah!” The trio began their trek down the road, light flickering brightly as the duo transformed back, and Ashe gestured with one hand to Dont, who dutifully bounded over. “He got away from me last night and we found him trying to jump off one of the staircases…”

It was Dont’s turn to look at Colvin with distrust twinkling in her eyes. The Thief turned to face him and held out one hand. Colvin looked at her in uncertainty before taking it. “A show of trust. I’m Ashe.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He pulled back to unwind the bandage from his golden eye and rewound it over his scars. Ashe glanced down at herself, then momentarily shut her eyes as a pillar of the same golden light as her friends encompassed her, replacing her Spirit Thief garb with more casual attire. “My place is about five or so blocks away, if you’ll follow me.”

The two set off, walking side by side in an uneasy silence.

—

When they arrived at Colvin’s apartment, it was by no means resembling extravagant. He lived on the fourth floor and apologized to Ashe about the climb and broken elevator as they ascended the staircase. His door, after being unlocked, required a swift kick to a spot on its side where the paint was already crumbling away to get it to unjam. “I could certainly afford a nicer place,” he assured her as he pushed the door open. “But I’d rather a small, comfortable space than an unnecessarily large one.”

The room was painted a calming purple, and plush carpets and rugs covered the floor. Posters in every shade plastered the walls and the ceilings, fabric hanging down in makeshift curtains. Bookshelves filled with tomes occupied the rare free space, and piles of pillows fit in every other nook and cranny besides.

All in all, it gave off the air of calm and comfort. “Please,” Colvin gestured to the couch, almost unseen amidst the sea of color. “Take a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Ashe pushed aside a couple pillows and sat. Dont landed on a mound of them beside her and immediately curled up like a cat. Colvin headed to the chair across from her, then seemed to realize something and turned away. He moved into another room - judging by the slightest glance she got through the opened door, it was his bedroom - and emerged a moment later with a guitar case in hand.

He settled back down into the chair, slowly placing the case on the ground and undoing the combination lock on its side with practiced ease. He placed one hand on the lid, though he didn’t open it, instead looking up at Ashe. “If you would care to answer first, I believe it would make my own response much more understandable.”

“Alright.” She glanced at Dont and then at the window, which afforded a rather nice view of the nearby park. She could see why he picked the place - from the outside it was a worn-out hovel, but inside, well, it was almost nicer than her room. “It’s kind of a long story, but to sum up… This fall, Inien enacted a plan to summon the great spirit Charoth from beneath the Melinda Museum. Markus - the blond guy with horns whose sword you dented - was working for her at the time, though she ultimately tried to kill him, so he betrayed her. Together with Gregor - that’s the red guy - and a couple other spirits, we cleansed Charoth of his corrupted energy.

“Like I said, Markus betrayed Inien. In the process, though, he used a spell - I forget what it’s called - on her that stripped her of her magic. At the same time, her energy was caught up with Charoth’s, and when I purified him, it affected her too. She had been infused with magic so heavily, as far as I understand, that all that kind of… set her back, in both a physical and spiritual sense.

“A couple months ago, we found out that she’d actually been in a coma since we defeated her, and had turned into a twelve - or so - year old girl, with no memory of the things she’d done. It set back my trust with Markus a bit, but…” she trailed off for a moment, deep in thought. “Inien - _Victoria_ , really, although I guess she doesn’t like that - isn’t really a bad person anymore. We know she’s done a lot of bad things, but she’s shown genuine remorse for all we’ve told her about.”

When Ashe looked up, Colvin was staring out the window. “Everyone deserves a second chance,” he said in a grim tone. “I hadn’t realized she was… different. My left eye - the side I keep covered, you saw, with the scars - can see spiritual energy. I was using it to keep track of what you three were doing, to see if you’d cast any spells, that kinda thing. Her energy read the same as yours so I thought… I assumed that because you were with her, you were on the side of evil.”

He paused. “Allow me to… show you something, if you don’t mind, Ashe.”

At her nod, he carefully drew the instrument from its case, then wrapped its strap over his back and fiddled with one of the pegs on the head of it.

Colvin strummed his fingers lightly across the guitar’s strings. It was an unusual gentleness coming from him, a man who had shown formidable prowess in combat only minutes ago. She’d expected anger or shouting, especially with a voice as hoarse as his was, but instead he carried an unusual peace. Whatever that fight had been, she suspected it was outside the norm for him.

A few loose practice chords filled the air momentarily before he found the right notes and began to sing.

His voice was sweet, like Ashe had once heard on Wren’s CDs, though there was the usual hoarse undertone found in his speech that he seemed to be trying to ignore.

_“The rain is falling down, and through my tears, know that I miss you._

_You gave me the chance to finally see the world through these enlightened eyes._

_And even if you’re not by my side, I know that you’re with me._

_In the end, we all know that tomorrow’s just another day._

_Somehow, I’ll keep going on, I’ll keep going on.”_

Colvin continued, strumming a bit on his guitar. He opened his mouth, but could barely get the next word out before he was forced into a hacking fit.

“That’s as far as I’ve managed, although the whole thing is written,” he managed in between coughs. “I can’t exactly sing for a long time with my throat like this.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, Colvin… And I mean, no offense, but what exactly ruined your voice so much? You were a singer in a boyband. It used to be much…” Ashe trailed off.

“Nicer?” He pulled the strap of the guitar off his back and set the instrument aside. “That’s what this is about. It’s a long story, and I’ve only recounted it in full once before. Spirits are involved, so even those who would listen probably wouldn’t believe me. It would be nice to get off my chest, in all honesty. You came here for answers after all, right?”

“Yeah.” She leaned back into the couch. “So long as you’re okay with telling it.”

Colvin thought for a moment. “Let’s see… Several years ago, I was in a band, known to many as The Truths, and we were on our second tour.”

—

It was the very last night of the tour, and we were done with our performance, so the three of us hung around backstage. Most everyone else had gone home, and the few that were still around tended to leave us be whenever our manager - my uncle - was around. He was fairly intimidating in his presence, but Legan Jun was perhaps the kindest, most level-headed man I’ve ever met. I remain proud to call him family.

There was a rather sweet brunette that had wandered in that night. She began talking with me about the concert, and as it was late and she didn’t seem too starstruck, I don’t think any of us minded her being backstage. It had only been five or so minutes before Legan came over and put one hand on the girl’s shoulder and said in a somewhat forceful tone, “Miss, I think it’s time for you to leave.” She turned to look at him, I turned to look at him, and before either of us could say or do anything else, a burst of energy shook the room.

The brunette was now in a set of strange clothes, blue, purple, and yellow in tone, and held a thick black book in her hands. Legan was thrown back as she dove for him with a wicked weapon. It was so different, so stark against everything else, but all I really remember is it seemed to radiate darkness and was stained with a thick stripe of red. A long scar formed on his chest, and it was then that I realized he looked different.

Legan… hang on, I have a picture here somewhere… Ah, here. When he transformed - which I later learned was what he had done - his hair went from a shade like mine to black, and his eyes from brown to orange. The same color of the eye under my eyepatch - that’s the color his eyes became.

The girl - who, as you might’ve guessed, was actually Inien, though I didn’t learn that for a long, long while - switched from using her blade to flipping through the book and reading incomprehensibly from it. I didn’t really know what was going on, but I knew enough to defend myself and my uncle, and I was going to protect all of us the best I could.

Each of Legan’s eyes flared with bright light and, to my surprise, I found myself rooted to the ground. When I twisted to look at Pathos and Logos, they seemed as stuck as I was. A smart move, perhaps, as we’d each had sufficient martial arts training at his insistence, and there was no doubt we could at least defend ourselves, if not each other. Normally, anyways. But in that situation? We would’ve just gotten ourselves killed by the witch.

Legan and Inien began to fight and absolutely tore into the room. Blasts of darkness went flying, and stray strikes of both my uncle’s whip and _her_ dagger stabbed into the walls and floors and support beams. He was trying to be careful, and she was not. Pathos was hurt in the fight quite badly - about as badly as I was - by an explosion of energy.

Still, Legan was distracted, and I knew enough about fighting to tell he hadn’t done so in a long time. They ducked and wove through the room, between us and around us. That’s what ruined everything. Eventually, he moved wrong in an attempt to dodge a blow. He didn’t realize how close he was to me, I think, but instead of air she stabbed hard into my eye. I couldn’t have moved to dodge it if I wanted to. I couldn’t fall to the ground in pain like I wanted to, and the tears just seemed to make the pain worse.

I remember screaming and light, darkness and pain. Inien was thrown backward, I think, though I could barely see from my one working eye and was hardly keeping the world in focus besides. She picked herself up, and her smirk cut through the air like her blade did as she dove for me.

My uncle was level-headed, as I said. He was reasonable, and his first thought should’ve been to stop Inien, not to save me. But, I think for all the things my uncle’s done for me, getting me through the bad years of my life, helping me to my feet when it came to martial arts and music, even supporting the three of us both emotionally and monetarily when we decided to start a band, he didn’t think he’d done enough. Or maybe he cared too much. Whatever it was, he was suddenly before her blade. Legan went down in a splattering of blood, and I don’t remember much of what happened for a while after that.

What I do remember… I remember bright lights and hospital rooms, pumped with so many sedatives and painkillers but still wide awake and screaming. I remember a sharp tearing at my soul, too-bright lights burning in my “new” eye’s vision, and the taste of blood in my mouth when I so much as breathed.

—–

He paused. “I’m - I’m sorry, that might’ve been too much.”

“It’s fine, Colvin.” Ashe reached out and placed one hand on his. He was shaking now, slightly, and she swore she saw tears forming in his eye. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He balled his hands into fists. “Allow me a moment to finish my story, at least. My eye was damaged badly, and they were making progress in transplants, so they tried to transplant my uncle’s to mine. It was infused with spiritual energy, though, and wasn’t attuned with my own. They could sedate my body, but not my spirit, as far as I understand it. I screamed myself hoarse through the whole thing.”

Colvin looked to the guitar. “I can talk plenty, but as you heard, I can barely sing, and not the same way I used to. I’ve written a hundred songs since then, but I can’t manage to perform any of them. And I haven’t heard from either Pathos or Logos in several years… My dream dissipated, my voice is all but gone, and my uncle is dead. My one hope, after getting back onto my feet and learning what I could of what happened, was to finally deliver the revenge that the bastard who did it deserved, and I can’t even manage that.”

Dont looked up from her cushion, her nose scrunched up as she puzzled something out. “You have to have talked to spirits at some point. Are you a Guardian, representing someone else?” she asked. “Someone else that Inien wronged?”

He closed his eye and took a shaky breath. “I think I’m done for the day, Ashe, if you don’t mind. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you and your friends.”

He was dodging the question, obviously, but so would she if she’d unloaded that much on a stranger. “Of course.” Ashe stood, and reached into her bag, drawing out a scrap of paper. She hurriedly scribbled onto it and set the scrap beside him. “Call me if you need anything, alright?”

“The same to you.” He was staring out the window, where lone drops of rain began to streak across the glass. “Thanks for listening.”

“No problem. It’s… It’s good to know, what to expect from her past. What to look out for.” She headed for the door, Dont following her much more hesitantly.

The lock on the door clicked shut. The apartment was left silent save for the pattering of rain, the beginning of quiet tears, and the slow strumming of a guitar.


	10. A World Without Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams, nightmares, reality - all one in the same.

Not for the first time, Markus was unable to sleep. He lay on his cot, holding up the knife and wondering.

He had tripped over it, back when they had been wandering through the first part of the Prison of Lights. No one had noticed it before the lights went out, and he had picked it up as if by instinct. Afterwards, he couldn’t figure out how to explain why he had it - that he hadn’t handed it over to anyone right away, asked Ashe to try purifying it, thrown it back in to be forgotten.

Everyone was still trying to decide if his screwing up the mask situation meant he couldn’t be trusted. _Again_. He didn’t want to give more fuel to that fire.

So he had the knife. Inien’s knife, her transformation weapon. Somehow, purifying her must’ve severed part of her connection to it, since it still existed without her magic. At first, he’d thought that it radiated darkness, a trait fitting its corrupted state. Now, though, he was sure it was more like it absorbed light. It was so stark, white as sun-bleached bones except for that dark red stain, that everything else paled next to it. It took the good things around it and absorbed them, removing them from the world. Studying it like this, Markus could definitely see how Inien got to the point she did. Just having it must’ve furthered her corruption, dragging her away from anything good.

_And what do you think it’s doing to you, dummy?_ he thought, sighing. He shoved it into his backpack, hoping that Thog wouldn’t find it in the morning. He could never be sure how much the curator could sense, when it came to these things.

——

Ashe leaned against one of the streetlights in the parking lot, turning her pin over in her hands. “Inien - the witch - she hurt him bad,” she explained to them. She’d called Markus and Gregor once she was done at Colvin’s, and here they were, Markus sitting on the trunk of the detective’s car and Gregor pacing back and forth next to them. “It’s hard to reconcile with who she is now, but we should all be aware of it.”

Markus took off his glasses and cleaned them, thinking about what to say. “I don’t think it helps anyone to pretend Inien didn’t do this stuff,” he said quietly. “Who knows how much of this stuff will come back to haunt her? To haunt us, in protecting her? Even if she doesn’t remember and tries to be different, it was still her.”

Gregor stopped pacing to look at the two of them. “Markus has a point. Ignorance helps no one,” he said. “But I guess the question is, now what do we do?”

“Let sleeping dogs lie?” Markus offered. Ashe shot him a look, and he shrugged. “Gregor’s not the only one with platitudes.”

She rolled her eyes. “That aside, it probably is best. He accepts that Inien isn’t the same anymore, or seemed to when I left him. We should probably just go about our lives as if today didn’t happen.”

Gregor and Markus nodded. Markus waited a minute, then got to his feet and made shooing motions at both of them. “Now that that’s settled, you both need to get going. Ashe needs to study and I know you like waking up early, Gregor.”

“Since when’re you a mother hen?” Ashe grumbled.

“Since Gregor lost his flock,” Markus replied, momentarily looking smug.

Gregor sighed, but didn’t feed the flame. Instead, he looked to Ashe. “Do you need a ride home? Or are you at school this weekend?”

“Winter break just started, actually,” Ashe said. “And I don’t think my aunt and uncle would like me showing up in a police car. So I’ll take a ride to like, a block away or something, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all!”

Markus stepped back and waved as Gregor’s car pulled out the lot, then turned back towards the museum. Thog wasn’t at the museum tonight; since Inien started living with him, the curator spent a lot more time at his house - probably to keep her away. Which left Markus alone with his thoughts, once again.

He headed for his room and dug the knife out, studying it once more while being careful not to touch the blade. Probably not a good idea to let it cut him. He tried to balance it on his fingertips, an idle motion, while he thought about what to do. _I need to show everyone that I can do things right. Handing it over like this is out of the question. I could just throw it back into the Prison, but Thog might sense that door opening again…_

The answer came to him in a flash. _I can give it back already purified!_ He set the knife on his cot, then stood and transformed. Enveloped in spirit magic, able to call on his own power, he could definitely sense the darkness of the knife. Its aura almost felt hungry, as if it wanted to devour everything good in the world.

Markus suppressed a shudder as he picked it up again.

He tried to recall Dont coaching Gregor through purifying the mirror. Carefully, slowly, he probed the knife with his magic. There was so much corruption in it, and he felt it pressing at himself, trying to weigh him down. He managed to shake it off even as he searched deeper, looking for anything that wasn’t just a desire for destruction. He could almost get it, like a flicker out of the corner of his eye, something straining to be found, but as soon as he turned towards it it  disappeared.

What must’ve been a few minutes later he pulled back into himself, a headache starting just behind his eyes. He felt suddenly exhausted, but more than that, his blood was boiling.

“You’re just a stupid knife! You’re not even possessed!” he shouted, tossing the blade aside. It landed lazily across the carpet. “You practically drove Inien to destroying herself, you led to Ashe almost dying. You took Colvin’s eye and dragged all of us into this! What are you, to think you have any right?” Frustrated, he called up a ball of flame and threw it at the floor where the knife lay. It sizzled and dissipated, and the knife seemed to turn dark blue for a moment before returning to its bone-white appearance.

Markus growled as he flopped back onto his cot. “What the hell even is the point, if I can’t even do this?” he grumbled. “Can’t even _find_ the original part of it, much less get rid of the corruption.” He barely remembered to let go of his transformation as he fell asleep, fumbling to take his glasses off before they wound up crushed or bent.

—

He woke up to the sudden thud of something landed on the carpet. Markus immediately sat up, expecting Thog, an intruder, or some spirit - instead, he got a smiley, young blond man who carried a jacket and pair of shoes in his hands. He waved to Markus.

“Sorry for waking you up, great party by the way.” Then he grinned wider, looked Markus up and down. “Maybe we’ll bump into each other again.”

Before Markus could process any of that, the man winked and was out the door. Markus rubbed his eyes before looking around the room. It certainly wasn’t his place - it was even messier than his old apartment had been. There were tons of beer bottles and cans crowding the trash and strewn about. There were a couple cups with ping pong balls shoved in them, all clustered together on a long table. He turned on the lamp for a better look, but immediately regretted it. The sudden light sent a bolt of pain through his head, like he’d been stabbed. Even with his eyes shut, the pain persisted.

_What the hell is this? Poison? A spirit possession?_

It was only after the pain subsided and he could _think_ that it hit him.

He had a hangover.

It never occurred to him before, but ever since Inien and spirits and Ashe, he hadn’t gotten blackout drunk… which still made him question the hangover. _Why now? Last I remember is my room at the museum._

He stood up, getting more used to the hangover, remembering what to do to lessen it, but he knew he shouldn’t focus on that. He was in someone else’s bedroom, after attending a party he didn’t remember.

Thankfully he had everything on him: keys, wallet, and phone. He tried his phone first, started a text for Gregor to come pick him up. He didn’t care what favor it would cost him, he needed out. It took him a second to realize the number wasn’t appearing with his name.

He switched menus and started scrolling. But no matter how long he stared at his contacts, he couldn’t find Gregor. Nor Ashe, or Thog. Just some random names, and a couple of nicknames he didn’t understand. He looked though the messages on some. Lots of flirting, lots of promises for dates and meeting up at parties, congratulations on setting shots records.

“Maybe Kyr switched the names,” he muttered. “Or our phones.”

He kept scrolling, ignoring the dread settling in his stomach. Nothing. No conversations he recognized.

“Maybe… maybe… Maybe I need some air.”  He hurried out the door, into, again, a strange living room and kitchen. More people were sleeping on couches and the floor. He managed to step over them as he tried to find the door out.

—

It was still somewhat early, the sky barely changed from pink and orange to blue. His first instinct was to find Thog, even if he wasn’t at the museum yet. Markus set about trying to get his bearings, so he could get to Thog’s place in the suburbs. He had only gone by to see it once since getting the key, just so he would know where it was in case of an emergency, and that should be enough to get him there.

But first he had to figure out where he actually was. Markus scowled up at a street sign, not recognizing the intersection. He was clearly downtown, but _where?_ The financial blocks, the corporate offices for the shipping companies, the legal offices? Was he close to the arts district and should just head to the museum to wait, or maybe he was closer to where the skyscrapers gave way to larger estates for the richer citizens of Braeden? Adding to the difficulty, his motorcycle was nowhere in sight, so he’d have to walk.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and picked a direction. Finally, he found a street he recognized, although it was just Main. Not much help, except for knowing he was roughly in the center of the city from east to west. So he just had to follow it until the names switched to numbers, and then he’d definitely know which way to go.

He thought about grabbing a cab while he walked, stepping around folks rushing to their jobs or to catch the bus for a morning commute, but the cold air was helping clear up the remains of his hangover. He did stop to buy a bagel and water from a coffee shop, frowning at the scraps of loose change in his pockets and all-too-familiar credit cards, but otherwise made a beeline for Thog’s neighborhood without delay. He tried to ignore how the city seemed quieter, how there were fewer people calling for petition signatures and fewer bikers shouting to make way, tried to ignore that he was noticing more people asking for money and more people slinking around instead of just walking through the crowd.

His instincts were screaming that something was wrong, but he had no idea how to deal with it - or could even place his finger on what it was - so he pushed them away until he could at least get a hold of the others.

—

Thog’s place was small, a simple green tri-level with heavy brown curtains covering the windows. It was weird thinking of the grumpy spirit owning it, but Markus also knew it had actually been the human curator’s, inherited from his parents. He still wasn’t completely sure how much of Thog was Thog and how much was Dan, but Inien had told him he was much more relaxed at home than the museum, so maybe it only came out there.

_Focus!_ He ordered himself. He was letting his mind wander too much, trying to delay seeing more unsettling things today. The grass of the lawn was a little overgrown, but he chalked that up to Thog not caring about it, even though when he rode by before it had been well-trimmed and flowerbeds sprawled along the white fence. Markus tried not to wonder what had happened to them as he walked up to the door.

No one answered his knock, so he got his keys out and found Thog’s by the bit of dark grey nail polish he’d put on it. He inserted it into the lock and - it didn’t fit. “The hell?” he muttered, taking it out and flipping it. It barely went into the lock that way. This wasn’t right, he knew his keys were ordered properly: red for his motorcycle, black for Inien’s old place, green for the museum, blue for his own room, and grey for Thog’s. “Someone’s really taking this prank too far,” he said, systematically trying each key, just in case.

None worked.

“Thog! Inien! Open up already!” he shouted, pounding on the door.

The unease he felt was close to being a full-blown panic. Had something happened to the two? Another person seeking revenge, like Colvin?

Markus turned and left Thog’s, headed instead to the neighbor’s. He took a deep breath and put on his best smile as he rang the doorbell.

A muscled woman with her hair tied back and a flour-covered apron opened the door. “Yes?” she said, looking over him suspiciously.

“Hi, sorry to bother you,” Markus said cheerfully. “But I’m looking for your neighbor?” He pointed to Thog’s house. “Dan? I work with him at the museum and was supposed to give him a ride into work today.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s your car?” she asked, looking past him at the empty street, the only visible cars parked neatly in driveways.

“I used the alleyway,”  Markus said, hoping that there was one that cut past the houses. He hadn’t paid attention when walking up the other side of the block. “I wasn’t sure how full the street would be and didn’t want to block traffic.”

“Awfully polite of you.” She shrugged, leaning against her doorframe. “You say you work at the museum? I thought the only other folks there were the gals that run the front desk.”

“I’m a recent hire.”

“And Dan gave you his home address? Nuh-uh, it took me four months of gift baskets to even learn where that man worked. No way did he tell you that.” She considered him again, and took on a knowing smirk. “Unless you’re a fox-chaser? Didn’t think he aimed young, but I’m not really one to talk, with my husband.”

Markus’ face turned bright red. “It’s nothing like that, Miss! Official business only.”

“Well, in that case.” She glanced at the street again, as if expecting someone else to appear. “I think he must’ve forgot that you were gonna pick him up. If you are here for that. I really don’t like your look though, and my kid said he saw a strange guy messing with the neighbor’s door. I really suggest you clear out, before I decide to call the police.”

Markus took a step back, inclining his head to her. She shut the door in his face. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, then turned and left. Thog clearly wasn’t here, and sticking around would only lead to trouble. He would check the museum, but the police station was on the way, and he might as well see if Gregor had also noticed all the weirdness going on first.

—

It was still very early, only 9 in the morning, but the station was busy. People sat in the lobby, complaint paperwork in hand or being spoken to by officers. Markus tried not to let the anxiousness pervading the room feed his own panic, took deep breaths to keep himself somewhat collected. He didn’t make a habit of visiting police stations, but this seemed busier than Gregor had ever described it. And hadn’t the detective said before that there were only two people at the front desk at a time? Here there was a line of desks, partitioned to give people some privacy while they told the bored-looking officers why they were there.

Markus looked around as he tried to remember what floor Gregor worked on, but lucked out and spotted him near the elevators. He had his back to Markus as he talked to a few others, hands tucked together at his back and feet a regulation shoulders-width apart.

_He definitely looks the part while he’s here,_ Markus thought, stepping carefully through the crowd and waiting. Finally, the other officers saluted Gregor and walked away, and he approached. “Gregor! So glad I found you.”

He turned, frowning as he looked over Markus. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Do I know you?”

“Very funny.” Markus lowered his voice. “There’s something weird going on with Thog, I think, and I think my phone’s busted. I wanted to see if you’d noticed anything.”

Gregor stared at him. “I think you’re mistaking me for someone else,” he said. “Maybe one of the rookies? But I don’t know you, or this ‘Thog’ person. If you’d like someone to be paged, you can ask at the desks.”

Markus’ throat went tight. “You’re Detective Gregor Hartway,” he said quickly. “Aren’t you? Unless he suddenly has _another_ double. This really isn’t funny!”

Gregor’s brow furrowed. “You must be very confused, sir. I’m the only Gregor Hartway on the force, and I’m a Lieutenant.” He gestured to the insignia on his shoulder. “Never been a detective. I can do more good working directly for the people and keeping an eye on multiple investigations than assigned to individual cases.” His voice was clipped, impatient in a way, as if he had better things to do, but at least he wasn’t dismissing Markus.

The blonde started to say something else, but was cut off by another voice, rough as sandpaper. “Hartway!” Both Gregor and Markus turned towards someone who had just disembarked an elevator. He was an older man, with silver dotting his black hair and beard. Old burn scars covered part of his face and hands, and an eyepatch hid one eye entirely. He was dressed in red and blue, and leaned heavily on a cane with a wing pattern across the grip. “Dilly-dallying on the job?”

“No, Ventis, sir!” Gregor immediately snapped to attention. “Just helping this gentleman with a few questions. Is Captain Camberwell meeting us for lunch?”

The man chuckled to himself. “I _am_ retired, you can drop the ‘sir’. And no, Azura is not. Too much on her plate at the moment that she refuses to delegate to you.”

“I suppose I should be grateful,” Gregor mumbled, before looking at Markus once more. “I have an appointment. Is there anything else I can help you with, Mister…?”

“Velafi, and no, thank you.” Markus said automatically. He wanted to keep pressing, but obviously that would do no good here. Whatever was going on had affected Gregor too, to the point that he didn’t remember anything. He waited until the two had left the building before leaving himself, jogging a block and then ducking into an alleyway.

He could barely hold back his panic now. Whatever this was, curse or spirit or something even worse, it was powerful. Something was vastly rotten in Braeden, and he would fix it. He just had to be able to cover more ground.

Markus held his glasses up, trying not to stutter. “ _Handsome Dark Magical Rogue Markus!_ ”  Normally he loved the incantation, the grandeur of it, but right now it seemed like too much. Too long, too attention-grabbing, when what he needed was to be fast and quiet while he figured all of this out.

A second later he realized it hadn’t worked. No flame, no burst of magic, no nothing. Shaking, he focused instead on the mark Dont had given him, but even with that he couldn’t sense anything. No magic pulsing deep within himself, no power waiting to be called upon - not even the faintest hint of dark magic that he knew still dwelled deep beneath.

“This can’t be right, I need my powers, I need to find everyone, I need to make sure…” he whispered to himself, blinking back tears.

He had to keep moving. That was the only thing to do. Whatever was going on would reveal itself at some point. For now, he had to find Ashe and Kyr. Make sure they weren’t affected like Gregor. He was certain that Thog could take care of himself, but he _had_ to see his friends immediately.

So he hailed a taxi and directed it towards Varyndir’s, hoping that he was wrong and everything would be fine.

—

Varyndir’s was also vaguely different. The grass seemed less well-kept, the front of the main building less open. Hadn’t there been an archway leading into the lobby, and all the sense of importance that rich people liked sponsoring? Now the doors seemed plain, the walls less layered and detailed.

Markus adjusted his scarf and headed for the directory office, waiting behind a mother with a sniffling kid. After a minute, a bored-looking secretary shut down someone pitching for an office supply company and waved Markus over. He glanced at the mother, who stepped aside for him.

“I’m waiting to talk to the principal,” she explained. “You can go ahead and get your business settled.”

“Thank you.” Markus nodded to her, then stepped up to the secretary’s desk. “Excuse me, I’m here to see one of the teachers. Kyr Fiore? I have an appointment with him about a scholarship being presented to his class.” He’d come up with the lie in the cab, and had on his best con man smile to dazzle the secretary with.

“Oh?” She typed on her computer for a moment, shaking her head. “Thought so. We don’t have anyone on staff by that name.”

He tried not to look shocked, instead smacking himself in the forehead. “Right! Sorry, Mister Fiyore is at another of the schools my organization visits. My apologies.” His thoughts were racing, trying to remember anyone Ashe or Kyr had mentioned from here. “My contact here should actually be, um. Dunstan, I believe? He’s a science teacher.”

The secretary sighed. “Why am I not surprised? We keep telling him he needs to schedule outside presentations through the main office. I need to write you a pass. Name and organization?”

Markus relaxed slightly. “Horatio Protagoniste, at your service.” His smile changed to a smirk, and he bowed dramatically, glad to hear a giggle out of the stern-seeming woman. At least he still had some charm, even with today’s weirdness. “I represent the Vestern Security Firm, and their Protectors of Tomorrow’s Knowledge scholarship.”

“Fancy.” The secretary wrote on a sheet of paper and stuffed it into a case on a cheap lanyard. “Keep this visible while you’re on campus, and please remember to return the lanyard before you leave.”

“Of course. Any excuse to see a pretty face again,” Markus assured her, earning another giggle. He smiled to her, and the others in the office, then headed away from the administration building and towards the classrooms. He tried not to let the lanyard bother him - yet another unfamiliar thing. Sure, he knew the office had visitor passes, but no one had ever stopped him for not having one when he came to bother Ashe before.

Stranger and stranger, and more worrying.

He didn’t even know where Ashe might be. He didn’t dare try sneaking into the dorms without his magic to fall back on, and even if he knew her schedule he had no idea what classroom she was supposed to be in. So he slunk down the halls, carefully peeking in through the windows on the doors, hoping no one would notice him.

Thankfully, it only took three rooms to find Ashe. He barely glimpsed the red puff of her hair, but immediately knew it was her. He straightened and knocked on the door, hoping that the teacher wouldn’t be too angry at the interruption.

She was even sterner-seeming than the secretary he’d spoken to, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun and everything about her outfit the epitome of sensibility. She looked at him with dark eyes, her mouth set into a frown. “And who are you?”

He held up the lanyard with his ID badge. “I’m here to speak with one of your students about a scholarship opportunity. Miss Kelly Garren? I know the timing isn’t the best, but I have a lot of appointments here and can’t do them all during lunch periods.”

The teacher sighed. “If it’s for her college possibilities already, then I can’t argue too much. Kelly!” She turned towards her class. “This Mister Protaganiste - ” she butchered the pronunciation, and Markus had to suppress a nervous laugh - “has a scholarship to speak with you about. You can come take today’s quiz after the rest of your classes today.”

“Yes’m.” Ashe stood up, her eyes darting back and forth around the room. Other students were starting to whisper, and Markus could see a few of the girls craning to get a look at him in the doorway, but she seemed more nervous than just for hearing her name whispered among peers..

Still, he didn’t say anything until they were in the hallway. “Let’s find somewhere out of the way to talk, shall we?” he offered. “I believe I passed an empty classroom.”

“Sure,” she mumbled. She was trying to look at him, but only out of the corner of her eye, not directly staring. It was very off-putting and not at all what Markus expected. Were Ashe’s memories weird too?

He led her to the empty classroom and held the door open for her. She stood in front of all the desks while he sat down on one, unsure how to approach this. “I’m so glad I found you,” he started, worry getting the best of him for a second. Then he realized that she probably was under the same spell or possession that Gregor was, and cleared his throat while he thought of something else to say. “Your grades and extracurriculars made you especially notable from our pool of candidates.”

“Did they?” She didn’t sound curious, or even interested. Just as if she was caught in chit-chat with someone on the bus, wanting the conversation done with but unable to step away.

Markus continued anyways, desperate to spark some bit of recognition. “Yes! You, um. Even though you’re just a junior, you’re on track for our Charoth tier of scholarship rewards. It could pay for the entirety of a community college degree, or a decent chunk of the larger ones. It’s quite a magical opportunity.”

She fiddled with her sleeves, tugging them further down over her hands. “You say that, but… I haven’t applied for any scholarships yet. I’m not even looking at colleges, since I probably won’t be staying here.” She stated it plainly, without any concern or worry.

His heart was pounding. _Why would she leave Braeden?_ “The company I represent, they pull from standardized test results - ”

“Which aren’t available to anyone but the Department of Education and the school systems.” She finally looked up at him, her green eyes colder than even when he’d almost strangled Gregor. “I don’t know if you’re a journalist looking for dirt on Eileen’s friends to use against her dad, or one of Dad’s assistants trying to earn points by checking up on me, but I’m not interested, alright? Just leave me alone.” She didn’t wait for an answer, simply turned on her heels and left the room.

Markus hurried after her, just in time to see the door shut on the classroom she was supposed to be in. He walked up to the door and glanced inside, watching her walk with surprising calm back to the cluster of desks she shared with her friends. Only one of them glanced up at her, the one with glasses and brown hair, before returning to her notes.

He stepped away before he risked the teacher or any of the students noticing him lurking, hurrying from the campus. Ashe was still defensive over her friends, still herself in that way, but her friends didn’t seem very concerned or even curious over her. That, and Ashe had never been that compliant with anything - even if she called him out for lying at the end of it, until that point, she’d been somewhat agreeable.

It just wasn’t _her_.

_One place left_ , he thought, bursting into a run.

—

He didn’t feel the wind biting through his clothes, didn’t bother brushing his hair out of his eyes. He couldn’t think of anything besides Ashe and Gregor, how everything was _wrong_ and it felt like a stab in the back, but worse.

It was only when weeds brushed his knees did he look up. It was supposed to be the park, but it looked more like the lawn to an abandoned house, a mix of yellowed, dying grass and tall weeds. He kept walking, feet taking him on paths he knew should be paved. Just more weirdness, more things to set right. Somehow.

The next time he looked up, it was in front of the museum. It looked smaller, less grand than usual. The paint was chipping off the front and the letters “MELINDA MUSEUM” looked like they were hanging on by a thread.

He pushed at the door, only for it to creak in protest.

“Figures.”

He knelt down and picked the lock, grateful for the small distraction from the turmoil that was going on inside his head. With a small _pop_ , the lock opened and he quietly slipped inside.

The lobby looked… normal, like nothing had happened. No repairs from the fight with Charoth, no velvet ropes to keep people out of exhibits where spirits had been taken. The floor was plain white tile, with what looked like a large sticker advertising the exhibit. The medallion was gone, with no indication it was pulled out - like it had just never existed. He looked at the cork board next to the door, usually announcing new exhibits. In their place, large posters advertised for “VIP Galleries, Available for Rent. Contact curator, Dan” as well as “Auction. South Eastern Collection”.

Markus couldn’t stand to look at them any longer. He turned and walked into one of the galleries that had collections in them. Most were locked, and he didn’t want to waste time picking all of them. Every so often though, one would be open, and he’d be met with blank walls and empty glass displays.

He kept walking, making it to the exhibit in the back of the museum when he saw it.

A painting of a cityscape, gray skies and bright buildings. The name, _Nuages de gris_ , barely registered with Markus until he remembered and realized it was also wrong. Perfect condition. Never touched.

_No spirit. No purification. No fight to keep Ashe from getting it._

He didn’t know what he was doing until he rested his head against the frame, tears in his eyes.

“Why…. Why has this happened?” He whispered, as if praying to the painting, until the words started exploding out of him. “Wh - Why is this here?! Wh - Why is any of this here?! Gregor is a detective! The museum isn’t like this! Braeden isn’t like this! Ashe - !”

He paused, unable to get the words out because his voice was hoarse from screaming.

“Ashe is so much better than that,” he mumbled, pressing his cheek to the cold plaster of the wall.

“Now who’s making all the noise at this hour?” A voice said from the neighboring gallery.

Markus barely paid attention, wiping the tears away. “What happened? What did I do to deserve this?” He winced as his brain supplied a list of answers.

“What do I do to fix this?!” He said, louder, voice shaking.

Someone touched his shoulder. He whirled around, ready to scream again, then froze as he took in this new appearance.

It was Dan. Not Thog, _Dan_. He looked older, like before the fight with Charoth, and he wasn’t wearing his bracelets. No chain of a pocketwatch peeked out from his pocket, and his frown was less weary and more worried.

“You alright, son?” the curator asked. “You probably shouldn’t be here.”

Markus sagged against the wall, sliding to the floor. “It’s not right,” he mumbled again. “None of it. This isn’t supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be alone.”

Dan knelt in front of him, his knees creaking in protest. “Sounds like you’re having a bad trip. I didn’t realize parties around here had that hard of stuff.” He held out his hand. “You shouldn’t be sitting on hard tile if you’re feeling rough, take it from experience.”

Markus hiccuped as he tried to take a deep breath, but let him help him up. “I don’t understand.”

“You need help, and I’m here. And I can’t have you possibly throwing up or passing out on the exhibits. There’s little enough here of value anymore, I have to keep what I do have safe.”

He almost laughed. That sounded more like the curator he knew. If it didn’t just highlight how messed up everything else was, he would’ve found it comforting. Instead, Markus was shaking as Dan helped him to the front doors. By the time they’d crossed the lobby he was calmer, his breathing back under control and his tears gone.

“Do you want me to call you a cab? Where should you be at, son?” Dan asked.

Markus shook his head. “I’ll be alright. I just - needed to get some things out of my system,” he said. He made sure to keep his words clear, so that Dan wouldn’t think he was about to have another breakdown. “I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

“It’s alright, I just could’ve sworn I’d locked the doors. You almost gave me a heart attack, when I heard screaming in the painting gallery.” Dan stepped away from him. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright? You don’t need someone to stay with you or anything?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll even come in tomorrow so you know I’m okay, give a proper visit to the museum. Thanks again for your help.” Markus shook Dan’s hand and walked away, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

It started to snow as he wandered away from the city, towards the seaside cliffs. Before he knew it he was headed north, towards Kinir. Surely Kyl’il had answers.

The horizon was bare, even in the darkness. He couldn’t see the lighthouse’s silhouette. He let himself feel his panic now, let it urge his steps forward when all he wanted was to stop and cry in frustration. He stood on the edge of the cliff, and couldn’t see the stairway that led under the ledge where the boat was usually moored. But there was an intact bridge here. He crossed it carefully, noting that it was repaired in pieces. It was simple wood and rope, some pieces frayed or rotted but others very new. Some of the knots looked ready to come loose, clearly made in haste or by inexperienced hands, and the balance of the bridge was nowhere near centered.

Still, it was usable. He stepped onto the small island, observing it and feeling his heart shatter into even more pieces. There were no flowers, not even grass. All of it was bare dirt and a few weeds, obviously barren and wasted away. There had been a lighthouse here, once, judging by the overgrown and fallen-in structure at the center, but it had been abandoned long, long ago.

Markus walked towards it, dread hanging over him. Nothing was right here. Everyone was worse off, and he couldn’t be sure what was causing it. Surely even something as powerful as Charoth couldn’t simply _erase_ Kyl’il and all everything had ever been? This was more like the entire world had been scrubbed clean of spirits, and left to flounder without them.

He curled up on the uneven stone that had once been a floor, much as he had in the warehouse where he first met Inien. He bowed his head against his knees, shaking and crying until exhaustion from wandering around all day and his distress caught up to him. He fell asleep, fitfully.

—

His dream was dark. He floated, alone, silent, nothing present to comfort him. He twisted about, searching for something he knew wouldn’t come, until - there!

A flame had appeared, some distance away. It moved closer to him, he was sure, although distance was hard to judge in this absolute shadow. He reached out for the flame, and felt it envelop his hand in comforting warmth.

“So this is where you wandered to, burning Markus.”

All at once, he woke, his breath heavy and chest tight as if he’d been running for miles. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around, tears springing back to his eyes.

He was in Kyl’il’s lighthouse, the various torches and candles more comforting than anything he’d seen before. Charoth crouched on one side of him, hand outstretched curiously. Kyl’il knelt at his other side, one hand over his chest and the other under his head.

“Take deep breaths,” she said quietly. “You’ve been far, and lost there for hours. It must have taken a strain on you.”

Not caring that it was immature, that it might make him look weak to the spirit, Markus turned towards her and cried, a child sobbing into his mother’s lap.

“It’s okay,” Kyl’il assured him, running her fingers through his hair. “You’re back where you belong. The world is as you know it, I promise you.” Her touch was comforting, sunlight and autumn bonfires and an oven heating a house all at once.

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to calm down. Finally though, his tears were spent, and he felt much more at peace. He sat up and leaned back, looking at her. “I’m sorry.”

“It is understandable,” she answered, standing. “After what you caused yourself. What Dont’s magic allowed.”

He felt something tap his arm. He turned to Charoth, the small spirit prodding him with his staff. Markus sighed and lifted his hand, only a little startled when Charoth let go of his staff to fold both of his hands around Markus’s, studying him closely.

He shook his head, deciding to worry about it later. He looked up at Kyl’il. “What did happen? How did I cause it?”

Kyl’il waved her staff, calling a chair over. She sat gracefully and looked past Markus, considering. “It never becomes easier to explain, even though most Spirit Guardians go through this.” She tapped her fingers against her staff for a moment before turning her gaze to him. “It is unclear, even with what I have heard from others of my standing. But it seems that, after a while, something about human will interacts strangely with spirit magic. We are as we are, but you? Humans always want better, always try to consider the possibilities of how the world might be different. It’s as if… As if you cast a spell, unintentionally, to create a pocket dimension. You wanted something so badly, but you couldn’t make it happen here, so you created a world where it was truth.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Depending on the power of your spirit and the strength of your will, yes.” Kyl’il smiled. “It seems that young Dont has more to draw on than I knew, and that you have stronger wishes than I would have thought.”

“Oh.” Markus ran his free hand through his hair. “Thanks, I guess.” He looked at Charoth, who was tracing the lines on his palm. “And this is about?”

“When you left the dimension you created, it collapsed. It is… a kind of death, I suppose.” Kyl’il’s smile widened, more amused than comforting. “Is it any wonder that he is curious?”

Markus rolled his eyes and pulled his hand away from Charoth. He did _not_ want to think about that right now. He got to his feet. “Thank you,” he said. “For getting me out of there.”

“Patient Thog said he could not sense you this morning, and I could not find you, so I thought it might be something like this. As I said, it is not the first this has happened.” She stood as well, and walked him towards the door leading down to her library. “I hope that, whatever you saw, it helped you figure out what you can do to make the here and now better.”

Markus nodded. “I believe so, thank you.” He left, rushing down the staircase. As soon as he was outside, he transformed, hollering in excitement as his magic rushed over him.

He teleported away from Kinir and ran across the rooftops of the city towards the museum, not caring that it was daylight, not caring that he might attract attention. He was alive, and he had magic, and anything was possible before him. He could help Gregor, and Ashe. He knew Thog, and Inien, and had her knife. He could do anything he wanted, with his magic and a little help, no matter what stood in his way.


	11. Battle of the Bands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time to rock and roll when there’s a spirit on the line at Braeden’s annual Battle of the Bands - but is there more to the competition than it seems?

Ashe and Dont walked into the basement together, one beaming brightly - as per usual - and the other looking slightly uncertain, hands in her jacket pockets. Gregor sat on the couch with a pile of paperwork in his lap, and Markus on a barstool in the kitchen, flicking through his phone. To Markus’ left was Inien, peregrine falcon happily perched on her head and textbook in her hands and on his right, Kyr, fiddling with a small pile of gears, gizmos, and assorted gadgets.

The two approached the kitchen’s bar, and Ashe pulled a stool around to the other side of it so she sat facing the trio. The detective got the message and stood up from his seat to join them; Inien rolled her eyes and closed her book; Kyr shuffled the pile off to the side, though he still absentmindedly continued whatever he was doing with the objects still in his hands - Dont glared quite pointedly at him for that - and Markus tucked his phone back into his pocket.

Ashe set out a sheet of paper onto the granite countertop, and looked at everyone gathered around.

“I thought Thog said after the staircase incident, Jay had to stay at home?” Ashe raised an eyebrow at Inien.

The brunette frowned back. “Well, he was feeling lonely. Thog is too busy with work today to come down here, so I doubt he’ll even notice.”

“ _Ahem_.” Everyone’s attention shifted to Dont, who fidgeted briefly and nervously at the sudden scrutiny before she began to speak.

“It has come to my - our - attention,” Dont announced as she settled down onto the countertop, “that there is a new corrupted spirit we’re on the hunt for. It is, however, a special case - so breaking in and stealing it might not quite work.”

Ashe gestured to the sheet of paper. Its colors were vivid and vibrant to the point of being almost blinding. Sharp green letters proudly proclaimed _“BRAEDEN’S 28TH ANNUAL BATTLE OF THE BANDS!!!”_ In smaller type, it continued, _“Your chance to compete! Inherit the honored trophy! Be part of the tradition!!_ ”

Dont pointed with her hoof to the picture of a trophy in the corner of the advertisement. “That’s the same trophy they use every year. When you win it, they engrave the name of your band on it and the year on it, and it’s passed from winner to winner. First off, the trophy is corrupted. Kyl’il’s known for the past couple years but there haven’t been any Guardians around to deal with it and it hasn’t been too harmful.

“Second, we can’t exactly just go and break into someone’s _house_ for this, if it’s even still in the city before the competition. So our primary plan of action should be… to win the Battle of the Bands.” She paused. “And if that doesn’t work, _then_ we can commit burglary.”

Markus’ eyes lit up. “I’ve always wanted to try something like that! I can play guitar, so I’m good.”

“Even if a few of you,” the pigbat glanced at Gregor and Ashe, “lack any musical ability, the magic should be there in the music. Not as much as in _Phantom of the Opera_ , maybe, but there’ll still be some. You can take advantage of it.”

“I took a few bass lessons,” Ashe mused. “Though I’m not so sure about my singing.” At the others’ looks, she rolled her eyes. “Bass like the alternative to guitar, not the cello. I’m not that snooty, come on. Everyone else was playing guitar so I wanted to try something a bit different. I only did it for about a year, but I still remember how it goes.”

The detective looked uncertain. “I’m not so sure about this.”

“Well, Gregor, didn’t you used to be part of a band a few years back?” Ashe smiled.

Gregor looked at her, returning her smirk with something that could almost resemble a glare.

“You, Wren, and that pretty redhead Azura Camberwell were in it, right? And Captain Ventis - ”

“Was our ‘manager’.” Gregor’s cheeks momentarily tinged as red as his Warrior outfit. He looked around, saw Markus’ curious stare, and sighed as he continued. “He bought us ice cream while we practiced in Wren’s garage. We were the 'Outriders’… because we rode outside the lines. Even though back then our bikes still had training wheels.”

“And you played the drums.” She gestured towards him. “It’s enough for the magic to work with. So that completes our group!”

Dont clapped her hooves happily. “It’s on Friday night and today’s Tuesday, so you’ve got some time to figure out what to call the band, and where to get your instruments, and figure out what song you’re playing… Honestly, I’m surprised they’re still accepting applications this late and without an audition. They must be getting pretty desperate.”

“Nah, there’s just always a last-minute rush,” Kyr said, still fiddling with his current project. “I’ve got some classmates that pay a lot of attention to it, and say the roster always gets like ten groups bigger the day before the performance. But it’s secondhand, so take it as you will.”

Markus looked between the two sitting on either side of him. “What, you guys don’t want in? C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

Inien shrugged. “You three have clearly got it handled. I’m good.”

Kyr seemed uncertain. “I’m… not so great at the musical stuff to begin with. I like to use my hands, but in more of a ‘take it apart and put it back together’ sense than a ‘make it seem pretty’ sense. Art’s not much my thing, either.”

“I can call Colvin,” Ashe offered. “And see if he has any old equipment we can use or knows where to get it.”

Markus’ brow furrowed. “You’re keeping in touch with him?”

She nodded. “He’s nice. I think you two would get along pretty well.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”

“And if we’re using The Truths’ equipment, we could at least do something nice in return - maybe cover one of their songs?”

Markus pulled a face. “I’m not so sure that the musical stylings of a _boyband_ that died five years ago is such a good idea.”

Ashe brushed some of her red hair out of her face and looked at him with pleading green eyes. “Please?”

His frown deepened. “Fine. Just stop with the look, I’d rather you be intimidating me than trying and failing to look cute.”

Her expression settled back into a glare. “Oh, you’re a real charmer.” From her jacket pocket she drew out an unmarked CD case and passed it to him. “I borrowed their first EP from Wren. Pick a song.”

“Hm.” Markus slid the CD into his own pocket, then looked between his companions. “All that’s left is a name.”

Ashe rested her head in her palm as she leaned against the countertop. “That might be hard. It’s really hard to have a name that sounds good and conveys what you want it to convey.” She raised an eyebrow. “What was it you said the other day? Something something something and his… ‘thrilling intent’?”

Markus considered it for a moment. “…Nah. I don’t even remember the context of it anymore, and it doesn’t sound like it makes sense.”

“How about ‘The Shrouded Isles’?” Kyr spoke up from beside him, seeming almost lost in thought.

“I like it.” Ashe nodded, then glanced between him and the others.

“Where’s the name from?” Gregor asked.

Kyr continued fiddling with what he held, gaze averted before answering. “When I was a kid… I used to write a lot of stories. The one I liked the most took place on a far away series of islands, inhabited - and then uninhabited - by humanity. _‘The Shrouded Isles_ ’.” He tilted his head. “I should get back to that someday.”

The blond wrapped one arm around Kyr’s shoulder. “It’s settled, then.” He pulled the CD case from his pocket. “Now, does anyone have a CD player? Thog won’t let me use his computer.”

—

“Alright.” Markus stood before his two companions, hand on his hips and guitar over his shoulder. His guitar, a dark grey, had a black neck and a streak of fire running along it, with the strings bright white. He wore a black tank top and poorly shredded blue jeans. His gloves were fingerless and black, his boots the same shade and with a grey heel. A red cloth wrapped around his left arm, a studded white belt around his waist, and a pair of sunglasses rested over his eyes. “Is everything ready for tonight? We should head out in the next half hour or so.”

“When did you learn how to take charge?” Ashe smiled. “Yep, I’ve got my bass, Gregor’s drums are at the community center and we can store all our stuff there overnight. Colvin’s friend will be in to pick them up in the morning.” Her outfit was a bizarre mixture of pink and green, which went surprisingly well with her fluffy white hair in her transformed state. Her bindings were still in place beneath her clothes, though only her collar showed - she wore a dark green half jacket and long fingerless gloves; a pink toque, belt, and accents on her black boots; a white sleeveless shirt with a similarly colored heart on it; and a black skirt over white pants. Her bass was a blueish green with sharp curves and corners, with a grey neck and white strings that matched Markus’.

Gregor’s outfit was much simpler than his companions. He wore a black vest over a white t-shirt, grey pants and black boots with a red scarf wrapped around his neck.

"We’re all wearing black boots!” Markus frowned. “One of us has to change.”

“First off, I’m behind a drum set, so I don’t think it really matters.” Gregor pointed out. “Second, I’m just using my work boots. _You’re_ the one stealing my look.”

“Honestly, Gregor, when you’re not in that stuffy uniform you look five years younger.” The blond looked him up and down as he swiftly changed the subject. “What’s your secret?”

Gregor smiled. “That’s a secret, isn’t it?”

Markus frowned and turned to face Ashe again. He raised an eyebrow. “…Ashe, did you steal that out of Inien’s closet?”

Ashe fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “No. She helped me pick it out, though. I think it’s cute.”

“Admittedly, when I think of you I don’t really think 'cute’.” She looked momentarily offended, but her expression softened as Markus continued: “And yet somehow you look both cute and badass in that.”

She smirked. “Glad to see I changed your mind, then. The community center’s at the edge of the art district, so we should head out.”

“Alright!” Markus lead the charge up the stairs, grinning broadly as they went. “Tonight, we’re gonna win this!”

—

The man stepped off the stage, eliciting a patter of uncertain clapping. His hair was a dark, heavy mop, and his guitar had clearly seen better days. His music, at the very least, had been original - it seemed to be some variety of metal about a deity of some kind, or a religion. Its exact meaning was vague, maybe even to him.

The announcer took the guitarist’s place, eyeing him for a moment and muttering something under his breath. He moved to the closest microphone, then adjusted the stand so it was low enough to accommodate him and stroked his thick ginger beard with one hand before speaking. “And up next, our final competitors for the night… Covering ‘I Wrote You a Message’, by the hit band The Truths, _The Shrouded Isles!_ ”

The drums had been long since set up, a never-ending string of solo acts giving the stage space to hold them before the last performance. The trio took their places at each of the microphones - Markus quickly adjusted the one before him back up to a comfortable height - and they all got ready to play.

The blond strummed a few tentative notes on his guitar, and Ashe plucked a few on her bass. Behind the duo, Gregor tapped each of his drums experimentally. They all exchanged nods.

Markus played first, the quiet, careful beginnings of the song. As Ashe and Gregor added their own instruments in turn, it grew in tempo and volume. The blond grinned, letting the power of the music and the magic wash over him as he sang.

_“The letters written,  
Aloft on the wind.”_

On cue, Gregor and Ashe jumped in.

 _“(Can’t you hear them?)_  
The words calling,  
Burning from within.  
(Can’t you hear them?)  
It doesn’t matter anyway,  
After all that we have been…  
Listen - baby, I wrote you a message.  
(And it can do anything.)”

In the crowd he caught a brief glimpse of Kyr, standing happily beside Inien and Thog. Dont bounced excitedly on Inien’s head, waving her hooves back and forth as Kyr and Inien danced and Thog gave a muted smile. Colvin, on the other side of the room, seemed equally happy to be there and gestured with a fist at the group as if cheering them on.

“ _I keep trying to explain,_  
But I’ve hit a word limit.  
Don’t know enough to end,  
Or try to begin it.  
I could use an editor…  
Maybe even a critic.  
Just let me start again -  
Gimme a minute.  
(Gimme a minute!)

 _The letters written,_  
Aloft on the wind.  
(Can’t you hear them?)  
The words calling,  
Burning from within.  
(Can’t you hear them?)  
It doesn’t matter anyway,  
After all that we have been…  
Listen - baby, I wrote you a message.  
(And it can do anything.)”

Most of the other contestants were in the crowd by now, having already performed. A few were grinning, however reluctantly, though a trio that seemed to be angrily conversing were by far the most noticeable. He made eye contact with one of them - the girl with the shaggy blond hair - and was startled by the fury he saw there. The magic caught his next words, and he wrenched his gaze away to keep his focus.

“ _Put down all these thoughts,_  
Like they’ve bled out of my soul.  
Who would’ve known all this  
Would’ve taken such a toll?  
I know you read it, inter - pre - ted it,  
Let’s go and take a stroll.  
C'mon, I promise you,  
When it’s over, we’ll all know.  
(We’ll all know.)

 _The letters written,_  
Aloft on the wind.  
(Can’t you hear them?)  
The words calling,  
Burning from within.  
(Can’t you hear them?)  
It doesn’t matter anyway,  
After all that we have been…  
Listen - baby, I wrote you a message.  
(And it can do anything.)

_Listen - baby, I wrote you a message.  
(And it can do anything.)”_

And the three of them sang the final line together, as they all played the last note:

_“Listen - baby, I wrote you a message -  
And it can do anything!”_

With that, the room exploded into cheering and applause. Markus basked in it for only a moment before he looked over to Ashe. She and Gregor were smiling as well, though now that the magic - and adrenaline - were wearing off, he could see the smallest spots of red blossoming on her cheeks.

He waved to the crowd. He noted that the trio of girls were gone, and for a moment a frown threatened to overtake him - it was quickly wiped away when he caught sight of Kyr’s excitement as the redhead waved back. Markus’ smile widened at that, and then he turned back to the others as they began to move their equipment off the stage.

—

“So, where do you think we should put it?” Markus grinned as he spun the trophy around in his hands, admiring both its golden shine and his reflection in it. “I’m quite partial to the new cafe section, myself. Let everyone who comes by see what we’ve accomplished here!”

“Even if magic had a hand in it?” Ashe asked as they continued walking. The darkened buildings of the city rose up around them, lit only by the brilliantly glowing streetlamps as they continued maneuvering through the art district. She waved at one, curious as to whether or not Kyl’il was keeping an eye on them.

Markus stuck his tongue out at her. “Yes, even if magic was involved. _You’re_ the one who’s transformed, thank you very much.” He continued to inspect it, then frowned as he came across the crack that ran down its side. “Speaking of which, can’t you just purify the spirit already?”

“I’d rather wait until we get to the museum. It’s dark and cold outside and I don’t want to spend more time out here than I have to.” Ashe rubbed her hands together, and sparks momentarily jumped from them. She frowned.

“I second that.” Inien ran her hands over her arms. “I’m wearing tights underneath this skirt. Why is it always so cold in this stupid city?”

“I told you to wear a jacket,” Thog remarked.

“A jacket doesn’t help cold legs!”

“I have a motorcycle, you know,” Markus pitched in half-heartedly.

“And I have a car. It would’ve helped if you’d brought it, for one thing.” Gregor looked at him.

“Also, your motorcycle can only hold two people. Were you planning on leaving the rest of us behind?” Inien raised an eyebrow, the intimidation factor of her expression seriously dampened by the pigbat perching on her head.

“First off, if you’d brought your car as well, we’d all fit.” Markus slung one arm around Kyr’s shoulder. “And of course not! I’d never do that to you guys. This is all _hypothetical_.”

Kyr’s expression clearly conveyed that he didn’t quite believe Markus, either.

“ _Anyway_ ,” the blond swiftly attempted to change the subject as they approached the building.

Thog reached into his vest, drawing out the jingling set of keys and fiddling with the glass door for a moment before opening it. He propped the door open with his foot and looked at his companions. “Kyr, would you mind taking Inien home? I’ve got some things I need to work on tonight and it’s getting late. She knows where the key is.”

“Stop treating me like a kid, _dad_.” Inien stuck her tongue out, but dutifully followed Kyr as he nodded and lead the way back to the sidewalk. She eyed his beat-up, rusty car with suspicion as she climbed in. The engine sounded like it was coughing as it revved once, twice, three times before finally springing to life, and after the duo each gave a parting wave, took off down the deserted street.

Dont settled in on top of Ashe’s head, who muffled a groan at the sudden weight. “I keep telling you, you’re too heavy to keep doing this. How do you even stand my hair?”

“If I’m too heavy, then why does Inien put up with it?” the pigbat sassed back.

“Why does Inien put up with _anything?_ ”

Dont went silent as she contemplated that comeback.

“You’re just lucky no one noticed you in the crowd,” Ashe finished with an eyeroll and followed the others into the building, careful to close the door behind her. She waited for the quiet click of the lock as it settled into place.

Markus waved the trophy in one hand. “C’mon, let’s go into the gallery and get this thing over with. If we do it in here I’m afraid you’ll blind me.”

“Great. The adrenaline’s wearing off and I want to _sleep_ ,” she mumbled and followed him, with Gregor bringing up the rear. Ashe looked up to the skylight as they entered the room, then frowned as she realized that the clouds were covering whatever illumination the moon would normally cast. Markus, standing next to the doorway, flicked on the lightswitch.

They all caught the briefest glance of the intruders before he turned the lights off. “Very funny Markus, now turn them back _on_ before they get the jump on us,” she hissed. He gave an exaggerated sigh and light once again flooded the gallery.

Their appearances registered easily as outside the norm, and as Markus put one hand to his glasses, he knew instantly where he recognized them from. Gregor held his badge out in front of him, but the newcomers made no move to interfere. They seemed content to wait as the duo were each encompassed in a brilliant glow, their clothes replaced by their Guardian apparel, with their weapons gripped uncertainly in their hands. Ashe shrugged her jacket off and placed it carefully to the side, and the two trios stared each other down.

“Who are you and what are you doing in our town?” Ashe’s voice cut through the tense silence, echoing dimly off the museum walls. She wondered distantly when or if Thog would notice.

“We have come to stop you,” the brunette said matter-of-factly. “We only came because we heard of the trophy, but your _infestation_ seems to be more imbedded in this city than we thought. We might have to stay longer.”

“‘ _Infestation_ ’?” Gregor gripped his glaive uncertainly as he eyed the darker haired girl’s sword. Spots ran along it - almost like rust, only stained in purple and white instead of red. “If you’re not with us you’re against us, I take it.”

They nodded.

“At least tell us your names before we decimate the museum - and you.” Markus twirled his sword. “So I don’t have to keep thinking of you as stuff like ‘blond with the shaggy hair’.” The other blond’s frown deepened.

“Right back at you, spaghetti-noodle-demon,” the one with the sword replied.

If her choice of words bothered him, he didn’t show it. “I’m Markus,” he gestured to himself with his blade, “and these are Ashe, and Gregor.”

The intruders introduced themselves from left to right, glowing letters appearing with their voices.

“Chriel.” Her voice tried to remain neutral, but Ashe could hear excitement waiting in her tone. Her weapon, which she held easily in both hands and was almost as long as she was tall, worried Ashe. As she looked at the marks running down the blade, the Spirit Thief was reminded of Inien’s bloodstained dagger.

“Vachon.” The next girl was clearly foreign, evidenced by the way she said her name, though Ashe couldn’t pinpoint her accent. The Thief didn’t like the unusual look in her eyes, or the sharp teeth she glimpsed for the brief moment she spoke. _I thought Inien dealing in dark magic was rare, but these three are evidently using it._

“Krista.” The final girl sounded as if she were bored, or simply uninterested, and flipped to a page in her book with practiced ease. Her outfit was simpler than the rest, but she did not seem to care, and she stood slightly further back than her companions.

“You were one of the bands at the show, right?” Gregor asked, though he still kept his blade trained on them.

“‘X-Zero’ or whatever it was. It sounded like some kind of old video game.” Markus continued, grinning as the trio glared at him.

“We’re _Z-Wing_ ,” Krista snapped, then glanced over to Vachon as she flinched, one of the brunette’s purple-and-white pistols simultaneously going off with an echoing _bang!_ She’d been spinning it around her finger in an attempt to seem cool, but now just looked sheepish - the blast, thankfully, disintegrated shortly after it exploded harmlessly against the wall.

And, like that, the fight began.

“If Thog doesn’t notice _that_ , then he needs his hearing checked,” Ashe hissed as her sword formed in her hand, hilt and blade appearing in small sparks of energy. She held back a yelp as she dodged a fireball that sprung to life from the blond’s fingers - after it passed by, it erupted into a cloud of butterflies, which fluttered away.

Krista looked impressed with herself. “ _Fire fly,_ ” she announced, then flipped through a couple more of the pages.

“She’s a Witch!” Dont called from nearby the ceiling, startling half the room. “She’s not like a Guardian, or like Inien was. She doesn’t transform - she just uses magic.”

“And _yours_ is a Thief.” A wispy ball of darkness ascended to Dont’s height, and, despite a lack of discernable features, seemed to regard the pigbat coolly as it continued speaking in a deep voice. “And a Warrior, and - what is that, another Thief? Or a Rogue?”

“A Rogue,” Dont replied. “And the other two of yours are _also_ a Warrior and a Rogue. Nice choice.”

“Hm.” He didn’t sound impressed by Dont’s deduction. She frowned.

_“Go, Franzibald!”_

Gregor leapt backwards across the museum’s tiles as Chriel’s sword bisected the space he’d been occupying moments before, the edge almost catching on the lower part of his uniform as it slammed hard into the tile. As he landed, he moved into a crouch, waiting for a beat and then charging at her glaive-first.

Chriel blocked the glaive expertly with her own blade, swatting it away with heavy force and leaping back like he had. Rather than charge, she instead smirked and shouted: “ _Rev time!_ ” Her smile grew wider as a spectral ripcord grew from the end of her sword, and when she pulled it, it began to vibrate in her grasp. She dove forward.

Gregor looked afraid for a moment, leaning back uncertainly. He only had the briefest instant to run his glaive through his hair, armor springing into place, before trying to catch the blade with his own. “ _What’s going on?_ ” was all he managed as Chriel’s sword leapt hard back and forth against the Glaive of the Waves. “It’s like a chainsaw…”

“Some spirits’ magic, like mine and Miss Kyl’il’s, manifests with the ability of bindings to help in difficult combat,” Dont piped up. “This dark spirit’s magic clearly works quite differently.”

The spirit, still hovering beside her, grew darker. Stray wisps of energy - some letting off sparks - seemed to flow off him like water, and the colors within them flickered like fire between different shades of purple. As he spoke, an edge grew in his deep voice. “Not. A dark. Spirit. How many times do I have to go over this?”

Dont tilted her head. “At least once would be helpful.”

The two Rogues traded blows, although neither of them managed to land a strike. Flames flew from Markus’ hands in all manner of twisting, flickering shapes, and Vachon alternated shots from each of her pistols.

Whenever a blast came close to Markus - which was rarely - he teleported out of the way, managing to toss a dozen more burning daggers at his opponent before she even realized where he’d gone. Yet she was still able to keep up with his attacks. When she didn’t dodge his flames with simple slides and shuffles, Vachon rolled out of the way in easy flips and cartwheels before resuming her assault. Other than Markus stopping to shake out his wrists ever so often, and Vachon slamming the heels of her hands against the bottom of her pistols in something that might’ve resembled ‘reloading’, the two seemed locked in their stalemate.

It was only when Markus disappeared in a puff of smoke and took a couple seconds longer to reappear that anything really changed.

He fell suddenly from the sky behind her, rapier clutched tightly in his hand and aiming straight for her neck. Moments before the blow would’ve landed Vachon spun and took a step back, hands held up to either side of her head. The brunette threw them both back and shouted simultaneously, “ _Vent hole!_ ”

A spout of hot air cut through the floor before her, pushing Markus up and away in a heavy blast of wind. His cape flew out behind him before he slammed hard into the tile with a loud groan.

“You know, just 'vent’ would’ve worked,” Krista commented offhandedly.

“I did not want to take any chances.” Vachon grinned a mouth full of daggers, then leapt out of the way as Markus attempted another strike.

“I’ve been hit harder,” he muttered as he glared at her and his hand alit with fire once more.

The two stared at each other for a long moment before she opened her mouth.

“ _Speed pie!_ ”

A blueberry confection popped into existence a few feet away, shooting through the air with impressive momentum before smacking Markus hard in the side of the head and knocking him over again.

“It was the best I could come up with!” she announced before either of her companions could even spare a glance from their own fights - which was good, as both were more than preoccupied.

Krista announced each spell as she cast them. “ _An’ry crows! Beeswax!_ ” And then, a moment later, she added more brightly, “ _Donut!_ ” The Witch took a bite of the frosting-and-sprinkle covered confection that had popped into existence in her free hand as she watched the ensuing chaos.

Ashe took a couple steps back as the floor around her began to bubble with a murky yellow liquid. She kicked off hard as it started to pool at her feet, arcing back to catch herself with both hands. A moment later she pushed off once more to land in a standing position - she barely got the chance to register which way was up before the crows swarmed her.

The amount of crows - whether it was a couple or a dozen - was lost on her as she was too busy shielding her face from their irritated pecking. Some cawed mockingly, and she heard wingbeats overhead. Still gripping her sword, she made a blind strike; the two she’d hit dissipated into clouds of murky purple. The rest, stunned momentarily, resumed their attack. She easily ran her blade through three of them like a magical corvidae shishkebab, then spun and sliced through two more.

The lone remaining crow simply stared at her in horror for a moment before cawing in fear and hurriedly flying away. Ashe lowered her blade back to her side, and frowned at the puddles of beeswax that now coated Thog’s precious tiling. “I hope we don’t have to clean those up later,” she mumbled as she shuffled a couple feet to the side. A clear path now waited between her and Krista, so she dove forward once more.

_“Force ctrl!“_

Ashe’s sword was halted when a shield of translucent violet light sprung into existence around the Witch, who continued flipping through her book with careful ease. She struck the barrier, hard, twice more, though it still did not give way, leaving her entirely blocked off from her opponent. Ashe’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step back, still panting and waiting as best she could. Possibilities ran through her head but the likelihood of any of them working seemed minimal at best.

_Purify it? No, I don’t know what that’ll do if her own magic is tied into it. She seems the least likely to be using corrupted magic - Dont said that Witches don’t transform like Guardians do, but she might’ve been empowered by that dark spirit somehow anyway._

Slowly, her mouth slid into a smile. Not quite trusting the mage behind the forcefield - who looked ready to sling a couple more spells any minute now - she notched the hilt of her sword on her belt, to be ready at a moment’s notice. She placed both hands on the field and concentrated, letting energy spring to her fingertips.

_If you can’t pop a balloon with a needle, add a little more air._

It only took a moment for the area around Ashe’s hands to start sparking, and thin wisps of the purple material that made up the shield to bulge out ever so slightly before awkwardly pulling themselves back into place. Krista’s head whipped up, a panicked expression quickly growing and the half-formed spell flickering and fading from her grasp as she began to realize exactly what it was the Thief was doing.

Ashe only had enough time to take a step back before two stray sparks on the shield collided and, with a violent _BANG!_ like a firework or a gunshot, the shield imploded, blowing both of them clean off their feet.

“Ashe?”

“Krista!”

There was a long pause before either of them responded, combat halted for but a moment as the duo each tried to find the energy to support movement. “I’m okay,” Ashe groaned and Krista coughed. The floor around them was scorched in a perfect circle, and it was then that Thog entered the room.

He strode nonchalantly past the newly-resumed combatants and up to a nearby wall. The darkened spirit, which had been waiting by the ceiling as he and Dont watched the fighting, flew down to join him.

“Hey, Thog,” the spirit greeted, color momentarily brightening. “It’s been a long time.”

“Nice to see you too, Strak. How’ve you been?” Thog settled in beside Strak, leaning against the wall and more or less ignoring the fighting going on little more than a few feet away. He held a bottle in one hand and took a swig of it.

“Oh, you know. Picked up some squads, traveled a lot… The usual. Nice new look, though I kinda miss the blond. It suited you. Still stuck hanging around here, then? Anything new?”

Thog shrugged. “We had a bit of an incident here a few weeks ago. Inien - you know about her, I assume - summoned forth the Bound One from underneath the museum.”

“Was it rebound, or did its power spread? This place looks as well kept as it always did.”

He gave a small smirk. “Thanks, finished the last of the repairs not even two weeks ago. Actually, it got purified by white-hair and her friends over there.” He gestured into the direction of the combat with his bottle.

The spirit’s rolling energy momentarily paused. “Wait… Those are _yours?_ Or… What’s the candelabra usually called?”

“They’re Kyl’il’s, yeah.”

The energy reversed direction, stopped once more, and then continued its usual flow. “Oh, I’m sorry then. _Huge_ misunderstanding going on here. They were manipulating the magic during their performance, and the blond kid had an off aura… I thought I felt another dark aura in the crowd, so I figured… Should’ve noticed you were there, too, considering how you usually are. Have you been masking it?”

Thog shrugged again, seemingly skimming over the question as he replied. “Understandable. I’m sure they thought the same, what with Sharkteeth and the sword Bandana’s got. I figured it was a sparring session, considering no one’s gotten hurt too badly yet.” He gave a small grin as Gregor deflected a blow, making Chriel’s sword scratch against the floor. “And you’d be surprised with how fast some of the guys I know can fix a place like this.”

“Hang on, lemme call this whole thing off.” Strak moved towards the fight some, his voice momentarily amplifying. “ _Hey!_ Fight’s off everyone, this was just a misunderstanding.”

Both groups of fighters froze in place, still breathing hard. Ashe, Markus, Gregor, and Dont all looked at Thog, who waved and downed the last of the bottle. “Are they not using dark magic?” Vachon spoke up with an uncertain look at Z-Wing’s foes.

“I thought _you_ three were using dark magic?” Gregor’s brow furrowed, glaive still pressed hard against Chriel’s blade.

“Like I said, misunderstanding.” The spirit tilted left, and then right, as if looking between the groups. “Had I known you were Kyl’il’s, this whole thing could’ve been avoided. You have my… _sincerest_ apologies.”

“And how sincere is _that_?” Dont seemed skeptical, flying up next to it. The two trios of Guardians each tentatively lowered their weapons, eyeing their former opponents with distrust before exchanging looks with their teammates.

They all took a few steps back, then slowly made their way over to the duo of spirits, assembling into a makeshift circle - a bit of a lopsided one, as each team still seemed wary of the other.

Krista stared at Ashe for a long moment, then glanced to Gregor and Markus before finally averting her gaze. “Glad to see that this was all a waste of time,” she muttered.

Dont hovered over her shoulder. “I don’t think so. You guys met each other, and knowing more Guardians is always a good thing.”  Krista’s scowl deepened and she didn’t reply.

“So,” Markus looked Vachon up and down. “Are you a vampire?”

Her brow furrowed. “No, of course not.”

He grinned a sharp-toothed grin. “Vampires exist, then?”

The brunette glared, and bared her shark-like teeth back at him.

“Well, my curiosity satisfied.” Markus glanced over to Gregor and Chriel, who were studying each other’s weapons with interest.

“What’s with the purple on your sword? And the chainsaw thing you did?” Gregor pointed to the streaks along the other Warrior’s blade.

Chriel assumed a fighting stance, sword in her grip and grinning broadly. “My grandpa’s a blacksmith, and so am I. I made Franzibald here with my own two hands, but when _someone_ ,” her gaze shifted to Strak for a moment, “made us Guardians, he put too much magic into my weapon. Those purple marks are where the magic nearly broke through.”

She hefted it over her shoulder with one hand. “On the bright side, my sword is really strong, although Franzibald doesn’t like being held by anybody but me.” She paused and thought for a moment as she searched for her next words. “The chainsaw effect is called ‘ _Rev Time_ ’, and it’s kinda like… a level up ability?”

“Like bindings!” Dont waved her hooves in excitement. “And from what I can tell, Krista’s still just a Witch, but her magic was enhanced by Strak’s - which is why it manifests the same way that the other two’s abilities do.”

“Very clever.” Strak’s voice was a bizarre mixture of sarcastic and sincere.

“What about yours?” Chriel gestured to the Glaive of the Waves. “You did something with it and then a bunch of armor appeared! And you held your own against Franzibald, which is pretty hard to do, if I say so myself.”

“You can catch up later. Trade phone numbers or something,” Strak grumbled before Gregor could respond. “We should be getting out of here so they can clean up - our train leaves in a couple hours and we need to pick up your luggage from the hotel.”

“Oh, right.” Chriel momentarily looked confused and then embarrassed before turning to Krista. The Witch rolled her eyes, but tore a scrap off a corner of a page in her book and handed both it and a pen to Chriel. The Warrior quickly scribbled something on it and handed it to Gregor. “Here.”

“Never know when another team of Guardians might come in helpful,” Ashe added in a low tone and Chriel grinned at her.

Strak dipped in the air as if nodding. “Nice catching up with you, Thog. See you in a decade or two.”

Thog smiled ever so slightly and nodded back. Z-Wing was encompassed by pillars of brilliant blue light and, all at once, disappeared.

“Are you sure we should keep contact with them?” Markus raised an eyebrow.

Ashe shrugged. “When we weren’t trying to maim each other they seemed pretty nice. Except for Krista.”

“Something tells me she’s always like that.” Gregor transformed back and slid the piece of paper into his vest pocket. “All things considered…”

“Like I told Strak, I’ve got everything set here. We open late Saturdays, anyway, so this place should be in top shape again by tomorrow.” Thog scanned the room. Beeswax still coated the floor, and there were a few chips in the tile and marble, but most of the damage had disappeared as magical effects tended to. “Not too bad at all.”

“You knew that spirit?”

The curator shrugged, then looked at Ashe. “You’d be surprised by the connections some of us have. You seemed to take ‘because I am a spirit’ as an answer for how I know Kyl’il.”

She frowned, sighed, and held out her hands to Markus. “Give me the cup.”

Markus obediently passed her the trophy. It began to spark with greenish energy in her grasp, and then was enveloped in a flash of brilliant light - the long crack down its side was now gone, and the various names etched into the base seemed gilded as well as cut into the metal.

“Well all that… was a thing that happened,” Ashe murmured as she handed it back.

“Yep.” Markus spun the trophy in his hands. “It sure was.”


	12. Rampage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When his friends disappear, Markus goes on a campaign of war, even drawing on magic he swore to never touch again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains brutality, extreme violence, bloodlust, and death

“So,” Markus said after a long moment of silence. “How’re things?”  
  
“Things’re good.”

He and Inien sat, relaxed, in Thog’s bland, white living room - the curator had gone out on a meeting and asked Markus to keep an eye on his charge. The blond couldn’t help but feel as if he were being _tested_ , waiting with Inien in Thog’s home instead of the museum, but it was nice. If he were being tested, he was being trusted, and if there was anything he could be trusted to do, it was protect the few he was privileged enough to call friends. Even if it meant an awkward attempt at small talk.

“What have you been up to? School doesn’t start until January, right?”

Inien seemed to be conflicted for a moment before replying. “I’ve been… studying. Thog’s got a lot of old books. A few are just catalogues or dusty biographies but there’s some really interesting stuff.”

“Old and interesting how?” He raised an eyebrow. “Anything that’s one of those, let alone both, I thought he kept locked away? Especially the spirit-related ones.”

“I _know_ how to pick locks.”

His eyebrow raised further.

“Or at least enough to deal with the dusty old chest he keeps them in.” Inien shrugged. “I mean - I don’t think he’d trust me with them. He doesn’t even know I know what’s in them.”

“So you want to learn magic, is that it?” It wasn’t that Markus looked distrusting - he looked interested, understanding. To whatever degree, she appreciated it.

“Well, I mean…” She averted her amber-eyed gaze from his. “I… I’m bored out of my mind and I want to help. You guys go out and - and fight, and work with spirits, and learn about all this cool, weird stuff… And I’m… almost afraid to even ask about it. Considering, y’know…”

“I can’t really blame you for that.” He leaned back against the couch, somewhat uncertain. “Just… be careful, okay? I can’t really stop you, either, because you’ll get back into them - and magic - somehow.”

She smiled, a little.

“But you don’t have a spirit to draw on like we do, and, hell, I didn’t even know you _had_ access to magic after all… the _stuff_ that happened. So just don’t fucking hurt yourself, alright?”

Inien huffed. “I thought _Thog_ was bad.”

“Well _excuse me_ for caring.” He smirked back.

“If you must know, I _can_ do magic, and I think I’m getting the hang of it. Look, I healed Jay’s wing a bit. He can flap it properly now.” As if on cue, the bird sitting beside her happily flapped his disheveled wing. “I mean, he still can’t fly yet, but we’re getting there.”

The blond shook his head. “I never pictured _you_ for a healer, of all people.”

“Well, it seemed _helpful_ ,” Inien pointed out. “And, you know, least likely to make me drunk with power or something.” She fidgeted with her necklace for a moment, glancing around the room. Had she just heard her name?

Markus nodded. “I’m glad that you’re putting thought into it, at least.” He frowned at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just. Distracted.” She shook her head, trying to ignore the way she felt tugged towards something - something here, somewhere, wanted her attention. Instead she asked him, “You won’t tell Thog, will you? I don’t want him trying to stop me until I know more.”

He rolled his eyes. “If he asks, I’m telling him, but I won’t just say something out of the blue. He does know how to help with this stuff, I’m pretty sure. Guy’s been around for a while.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“Exactly.” He finished off his can of soda, crumpling it in his hands. “Now if you’ll excuse me, you guys keep the recycling bin in the garage, right?”

She nodded, getting an idea. She needed time alone to figure out what was going on, just a few seconds. “Oh, and tomorrow’s garbage pickup. We have the trash out already, but I think the recycling’s almost full and we forgot about it. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Markus stood and left the room. Inien waited until she heard a door close, then moved closer to his bag. Whatever she was hearing, or sensing, or _something_ , was here. It itched at her mind, demanding her attention, and she wasn’t sure she could’ve kept herself away still even if Markus was still there.

She found it, at the bottom of the main pocket, wrapped in some heavy cloth. She carefully closed his backpack, scooted back until she sat against the sofa, and then unwrapped it. Her fingers tingled as it was revealed, a knife, white as bone save for a dark red spot on the blade.

Her hands twitched, eager to grab it, though she knew she should hide it to investigate it properly later. Under the couch would be all she could manage for now without causing suspicion. She wrapped the knife up again, carefully, and shoved it under the couch, as far back against the wall as she could reach. The cloth fell loose from it, though, and her fingers brushed against the blade. She squeaked and pulled away from it, away from the energy that suddenly reached for her like a former friend.

The first thing Inien saw when she sat up was red.

It seemed to cover nearly if not every surface - the few places that weren’t that horrid shade seemed to almost flicker and fade, the colors too dim and too dull to even be seen against the gore that filled the space.

The air, too, was as thick and hot and heavy as the color. It smelled putrid, filling her lungs like liquid, and when she breathed it was almost as if she could _taste_ it. She tried to take a deep breath, to clear her mind of whatever feeling was creeping up on it, but found she could hardly manage more than the slightest gasp before her throat seemed to close up on her.

A pressure squared down on her shoulders and her mind and she squeezed her eyes tight, the darkness behind closed lids still tinted as images flickered past. She felt her dagger in her hand, a smile on her lips, the scent of death in the air; she felt a great roar shake the world, a loving hunger growing in her chest, and nothing to see but the future before her; she saw a small creature with its white fur painted like a canvas and bleeding moonlight, a man with her blade in his stomach, a boy with anger in his eye and tears on his cheeks as red blossomed in a scar across his face.

She felt the world crashing down on her, like the bursting of a floodgate that all at once seemed to overtake her.

She saw her own hands stained with blood, and a strange welling began in her chest - so distant, but so familiar.

Still drowning in the red, Inien passed out.

—–

Even though it was barely six o’clock, the sun was down and the museum’s windows were dark. Ashe leaned against the glass of the front doors, hands over her eyes so she could see past the glare cast by the security lights overhead. She tapped on the glass, but already knew there wouldn’t be an answer.

“I think no one’s here,” Dont said, her own snout pressed up against the glass.

“We could break in and check,” Ashe muttered.

“What, for old times’ sake? I don’t think Thog would appreciate it.”

Ashe shrugged and turned around, just in time to see a familiar car pulling into the lot. She approached as Gregor got out, his own expression mirroring her own confusion. “Seems we had the same idea,” she said, grinning at him.

Gregor waved up at Dont, circling overhead, then frowned at Ashe. “Markus isn’t here? Or Kyr? I thought they were turning the lounge into a lab or something.”

Ashe shuddered, thinking of the random piles of parts and wires that were slowly accumulating in the museum basement. “I hope that’s not their end goal. Small projects is one thing, but a whole lab? No way would Thog go for it.”

Gregor laughed. “True.” He looked around, surveying the area. “You know, I probably should’ve texted Markus to see if he was here before driving over.”

“That makes two of us.” Ashe leaned against his car, shaking her head amusedly. “It’s weird. I just got used to him living here, and now we have to think of him having a life? Jerk.”

He snorted at her sarcastic tone. “Not all of us live and breathe spirit stuff.”

“Yeah.” Ashe sighed and pulled on the sleeves of her jacket, good mood suddenly replaced with frustration. “He’s lucky. The only people he knows are already in.”

Gregor turned towards her. “You think so? Because I think it might cause more worry, with how we draw trouble to ourselves.”

“Better than not being able to tell your friends anything about why you’re never around.”

“Ashe…” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s difficult, but - ”

“No, you don’t!” She interrupted, slapping his hand away. “You really, really don’t! You have to lie too, but at least _your_ best friend wasn’t attacked by a spirit. At least you haven’t dragged anyone else into this! You had to lie on one report, and change around your shifts, sure, but you can _do_ that. I’m missing school and I don’t get to talk to anyone anymore and it sucks, Gregor! And I keep thinking I’d rather - ” She cut herself off, realizing what she was about to say. She stepped back and shook her head, letting out a frustrated groan.

“I’m sorry,” Ashe said, looking at the ground. “You didn’t deserve that. There’s just a lot right now.”

Gregor nodded, and took a moment to think. Ashe was clearly holding onto a lot, and adding to that would not be helpful at all.. As he considered, Dont drifted down, worried. She landed on Ashe’s shoulder and nuzzled up to her. Ashe smiled, barely, and grabbed the pigbat so she could hug her.

“You know,” Gregor said after an uncomfortable silence, “It’s really not good to bottle stuff up. I know you can’t go to a normal therapist. Not about all of this, obviously. And Markus and I are only so useful. But maybe - talk to Kyl’il? The stories about her make her a guide for lost travellers, right? This isn’t all that different.”

Dont nodded. “Yeah! And she has lots of experience with Guardians! I’m sorry, Ashe, I should’ve realized you needed the suggestion earlier.”

Ashe wiped her eyes on her sleeve, trying not to cry. “Maybe you’re right. Thanks.”

Dont nudged her hand. “Of course I’m right! It’s… Hold on…” She sniffed the air, her whole body suddenly tense. She wiggled out of Ashe’s arms, looking around. “You guys need to transform,” she said, beating her wings and taking flight again. “ _Now_.”

The two did so, calling their weapons to hand immediately. Ashe looked around, trying to see whatever Dont had sensed, but she didn’t have long to wait. Multiple cars screamed into the lot, big armored trucks and vans. Ashe turned her back to Gregor’s as the vehicles formed a semicircle, with the museum their only avenue of escape.

“What the hell?” Ashe muttered.

“Just be alert, there’s something very wrong here,” Dont whispered, hovering just above them.

People jumped out of the cars, all of them dressed in armored vests and helmets. Most of them carried what looked like guns, except with glowing canisters in place of the magazines. A few at the front took aim and fired, releasing orbs of the glowing material. Ashe had just enough time to swing her sword up, blocking the blasts with the blade, though they didn’t bounce off like she expected. Instead of a small impact, she felt like something had reached out for her, tried to grab her. She grimaced and tightened her grip on her sword.

A voice shouted over the group of attackers. “Give yourselves up! We are to take you in alive, but we will fight if you refuse to come along.”

Gregor shook his head. “Who are you people? You’re trespassing.”

In answer, there were more shots. Ashe and Gregor both dodged this time, moving back towards the museum. Above them, Dont shrieked, suddenly in pain. “Murderers!” she screamed. “ _Enslavers_ , breakers, how dare you!” She made as if to dive at them, but her flight was wobbly. She retreated to the top of the arch over the entrance, sniffling. “It isn’t right!”

Ashe gritted her teeth. “They seem like humans,” she whispered.

“But they’re attacking us,” Gregor pointed out. “And Dont’s sensing something bad. I say we incapacitate them, and chase them away for good.”

“Right. After you.”

They faced the crowd of armed people, so different from their usual fights. Gregor ran at the front lines, his glaive a blur in his hands. Ashe attacked the group to his right, trying to keep the flat of her blade towards them as she struck at knees and hands and weapons.

But their foes didn’t seem to care that they might their allies, and fired again on them. A few blasts hit Ashe’s side before she could block them, and she was overwhelmed with anger and fear and bliss, all at once. She froze, not pained, but her instincts in disarray. She wanted to tear and rend these intruders apart, and flee from them, but also stand there and thank them for showing up.

She gasped as she felt a tug at her back, and suddenly realized Gregor was pulling her back towards the museum. His face was pale, his hands covered in sweat, but he was still moving and still trying to get her to move. She followed his lead, running as she heard more shots. The museum doors were still closed, but she simply shattered the glass with her sword and stepped inside.

She and Gregor paused with their backs against the wall, both of them panting for breath. “What’re they doing?” Ashe whispered.

“Surrounding us,” Gregor said, looking around the corner. “They’re taking their time, and sending a group to the back. Dammit!” He shook his head. “I don’t know what that was, but it’s - ”

“Not good,” Ashe finished for him. “It was like fighting a spirit, when those bullets hit me, everything they try to lure people close to them.”

“Or at least the non-active ones,” Gregor said. “What do we do?”

“No idea.” Ashe closed her eyes. “I think I knocked out… four of them?”

“And I got six. But there’s at least fifty.”

Dont suddenly flew into the museum, hooves over her ears and eyes shut. She banged into the front desk, squealed, and reoriented herself as she looked around. “There’s more coming!” she said as soon as she spotted the two Guardians. “And the spirits, they’re screaming, whatever the second group has, it’s worse than this group.” She whined and scratched at her snout. “There’s too many voices, I can’t pay attention to all of them!”

Ashe swore and ran over to Dont, even though it put her within sight of the doors. “It’ll be okay,” she said, kneeling to be at eye-level with the pigbat. “Just hide for now, okay, Dont? Gregor and I will take care of this. We’ll help those spirits.”

Dont nodded, although she didn’t look convinced. She opened her mouth to say something, but then a loud hum filled the air. She called a warning just before the hum became a roar, and Ashe’s senses were overwhelmed with heart-rending sorrow.

Ears ringing, tears in her eyes, the last thing she felt was metal cuffs around her wrists.

——

Markus returned to see Inien passed out on the floor, and immediately called Thog. The curator started yelling at him for interrupting his meeting, but went silent when Markus simply said, “It’s Inien.”

“Shit.” Thog took a deep breath. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t do anything but make sure she’s alive.”

That was three minutes ago. Markus kept walking back and forth between where Inien lay on the floor and the front window, flicking the curtains back to check for Thog’s car. Jay waited, perched on a bookshelf, eerily silent as he stared at Inien.

Finally, he heard the rumble of a car in the drive. Markus hurried to open the door, his hands shaking. “I don’t know what happened, I just left the room for a moment.”

Thog brushed past him and knelt next to Inien. His eyes widened, taking in that she was suddenly taller, her hair a bit longer, her face slightly more defined. “What the fuck?”

“I don’t know!” Markus sat on the floor as well. “I left the room for just a minute, and then I heard a scream, and… She was like this. She’s still breathing, she doesn’t seem injured, but she did seem to be having some kind of nightmare at first. Lots of twitching and stuff.”

Thog took a deep breath. “Alright. I need to… Kyl’il and I might have to work something out.” He looked at Markus. “Just go to the museum. I’ll call you when I know more.” He glanced around, brow furrowing in concentration. “You didn’t sense anything, either?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Markus’ thoughts went to the knife in his bag. _Stupid, keeping it with me. Especially here._ He picked up his backpack as he stood. “Let me know if I can do anything.” He hurried outside to his motorcycle. He needed to ride - it was the easiest way to distract himself, other than using his magic.

He took a little longer to get to the museum than normal, not ready to have his feet on the ground and to be consumed with worry again. Finally, though, Markus arrived, puzzled as he saw Gregor’s car in the lot. D _oes he have a key here? Or did I forget to lock up? Were we supposed to meet?_

He checked his phone, but he hadn’t missed anything. It was then that he noticed the lights in the parking lot were out, too. He shuddered, and cautiously approached the museum. As soon as he got close enough to see that the doors were broken, he transformed. With the comfort of magic wrapped around him, he rushed inside, tense and ready to teleport out of the way of any attack. “Gregor?” he shouted.

Markus looked around, frantic. There was blood on the floor, and scorch marks on the walls, although not the sort that Ashe’s or his own magic sometimes left. The walls were actually damaged, not just somewhat sooty. He turned, sensing something familiar, and vaulted over the admissions desk to find Dont curled up in a ball underneath it, quivering.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice high-pitched with panic.

“Ashe a-a-a-a-and Gr-Gregor…” she whimpered. She lifted her head just enough to look at him, although her eyes were glossy, staring at some point beyond him. “Overwhelmed! T-too many, too much sc-screaming. Captured…” Her wings twitched, flared out for a moment, but then she curled in on herself again. “I couldn’t! I’m sorry!”

Markus patted her on the head. “It’ll be alright,” he whispered. “I’ll find out what happened.” He wanted to pick her up and hold her until she calmed down, but wasn’t sure how she would react right now. “Just try and rest, okay, Dont? I’m sure you did plenty.” Even fighting spirits whose presence made her cringe or fly unevenly, he’d never seen this strong of a reaction out of the pigbat. It unnerved him.

He stood and looked around again, and this time he spotted them - a person in a dark purple uniform and armored vest, sprawled on the ground just inside a gallery. Markus teleported over, seeing that she was unconscious. He snarled impatiently, and placed his hand against her arm. Less carefully than he might’ve been otherwise, he sent a spark of magic through her.

The woman flinched, and her eyes fluttered open. Seeing him looming over her, horns gleaming in the moonlight coming through the windows, she cried out and reached to her side - presumably for a weapon she didn’t have anymore.

“Who are you, and what happened to my friends?” Markus asked, his voice cold and measured.

The woman yanked away from him, backing herself up against a wall. “I’m no one, and I have no idea,” she answered.

He leaned forward and grabbed her shoulder. She yelped, and he realized his claws had pierced her skin. He loosened his grip, wondering at that; he hadn’t meant to hurt her, just scare her a little. “Look, you, I have no patience for games. I - fuck!” He tasted blood. He’d actually bitten his tongue! Swearing again, he felt his teeth, and realized that his fangs were just a bit longer as well.

_A side effect of my emotions?_ he thought, curious. But that was secondary, not as important as getting information. He stared the woman down. “You seem to be just a human. I can’t sense any magic from you. So tell me, what the hell happened here and why are my friends gone? Answer quickly, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

She stared back, but only for a moment, before breaking away from his glare with a sigh. “They aren’t worth my life. It’s Duskcove Industries. The boss wanted spirit-users, and you all seemed like the closest group. They’re probably at the new warehouse until proper transport arrives from headquarters.”

_Normal humans took them out?_ It didn’t make sense. Markus bared his fangs at the woman. “How? There’s no way they’d lose in a fair fight.”

The woman smirked. “Our weapons aren’t normal. I don’t know how they work, exactly, but no spirit-user is any match for them.”

He snarled again and backed away from her. “Get the fuck out of here before I make sure you can’t,” he ordered.

She didn’t need a second prompting on that. She scrambled to her feet and ran past him, headed straight for the doors.

Markus shook his head and went back to the admissions desk. “Dont? You still here?” he asked, walking around it once more.

A small squeak was the only answer he got. He scowled, but tried not to let his impatience show. “I’m going to go get Ashe and Gregor. When you feel better, go see Thog, okay? Someone has to tell him what happened.”

He waited until he heard another - likely affirmative - squeak, then straightened up and looked around. He needed speed, and he wasn’t going somewhere he’d been before. Even though he hadn’t really used them before, he instinctively knew what to do. Without hesitation he reached up and gripped one of his horns, crushing it in his grasp. It shattered into pieces of pure magic that hung in the air around him before curling his way down his arm, down his back, forming wispy, shadowy wings.

Markus walked outside, unfurled his wings, and took flight. They weren’t substantial, so they didn’t tire him to use, and the wind whipping by assured him of his speed. With each hurried wingbeat, he felt his rage working into his very being, giving him more and more reason to settle this.

Someone had invaded his home. They’d attacked his friends. Whoever they were, whatever they wanted, he was going to make them _pay_.

He swooped over the warehouse district near the docks, but didn’t notice anything different. He kept flying, until some of the vacant lots were replaced by farm fields, and there were no more docks jutting out into the ocean. He was about to turn back, thinking that he’d missed it, when he saw a long, low building in the middle of a parking lot. It was very out of place, away from the rest of the city’s industry.

He landed in the parking lot, noting a few heavy - armored? - vans and trucks parked close to the building itself. A dull, unlit sign at the edge of the property in the same purple as the woman’s uniform declared _“Duskcove Industries - Working Magic For You”._

Markus growled and threw a flickering fireball at the sign’s support struts, causing it to tilt dangerously. He turned towards the building and stalked closer, breaking his other horn as he did. On his next breath, he could sense so much more, smelling and tasting fear and tiredness, boredom and selfishness.

And, just barely, a prickle of electricity and the coolness of water. _It has to be Gregor and Ashe,_ he thought, breaking into a run.

The door burst open as he threw his energy at it, not even bothering to shape it into a proper attack. Inside, the building seemed to be more factory than warehouse, with lots of conveyor belts and heavy machinery filling it. There were also more armored guards, with guns that looked to hold glowing ammo.

As they scrambled to get a bead on him, he teleported upwards, perching on the edge of one of the processing machines. A ball of flame formed at his fingertips, more black than blue, and he threw it at the nearest guard. He didn’t wait to see his handiwork, but couldn’t help the morbid glee when he heard a scream of pain.

A second guard got hit with a dagger made out of shadow, the black energy spreading a few inches into the veins surrounding the impact point. Another scream, another teleport, another downed security guard.

But there were dozens of them, and he couldn’t stay lucky forever. One of them managed to shoot him. Markus winced, feeling a weight on his shoulders, a sudden sadness, until his anger welled up again and he shrugged it off. He teleported close to one of the guards, drawing his sword in the same instant.

He was cocky, though, and didn’t notice their comrade with a switchblade hiding behind one of the machines. Even as Markus used the flat of his sword to break the first guard’s wrist - or at least bruise it enough to make them drop their gun - the second managed to stab him in the shoulder.

He shouted in pain and whirled on them, not thinking as he retaliated. The second guard fell.

Markus cut through the rest of them, letting his instincts take over, intent on making sure they knew he would grant no forgiveness or mercy. A few more managed to strike him, both with their glowing guns and with more ordinary weapons, but the pain only enraged him more, giving more ferocity to his strikes, more fuel to his fire. Anger no longer simply welled in his chest so much as overwhelmed him.

Through it all, he kept his mind on one goal: F _ind Gregor. Find Ashe. We should be a team. This isn’t some other world like before, we’re always together here, and I WILL get them back._

He didn’t dare consider any alternative, because it would mean being alone again, and that would paralyze him with fear.

Finally, he found a stairway leading down. He barely even noticed that no one was shooting at him anymore as he descended, all of the guards on the upper level defeated. Below was a large chamber, doors leading to other rooms off of it, and more guards. These ones were ready for him, holding onto what looked like small cannons instead of just guns.

“You don’t want to stand in my way,” he said, stopping, giving them one last chance.

“That’s my line,” one of the guards said. “You can surrender, and we’ll keep you with your friends. If not, well, we already have two. Killing the third won’t cost any of us.”

Markus’ tail twitched back and forth, and he flared his wings out, instinctively trying to make himself look bigger. “You have no idea what you’re provoking.”

“Neither do you.” Without warning, the guard fired, the blast hitting Markus too quickly for him to react.

He was awestruck for a moment, taken by the beauty of the world, this moment, the sense of being alive and the passion burning through his veins. He heard another blast, and the awe was replaced by fear, then joy so profound that he thought he might weep at it, until the fourth of them that fired gave him anger.

It met his own, and he snapped out of it, teleporting overhead. He was slowing down, his wounds and spent energy finally catching up to him.

_This has to be quick,_ he thought, as he dropped down on them.

He sliced through one of the guards, and tossed a shadowy dagger at the knee of another. Before they could aim their heavy weapons at him again he teleported behind them, knocking the third to the floor by digging his claws into their chest. They fainted as blood welled past his nails. Markus turned towards the fourth, who had backed into a corner. They were quaking too much to aim properly, although they were still holding onto their weapon.

“Run,” Markus said, their fear cutting through his rage, just for a moment.

They shook their head. “No way. Not after you… you…!” They glanced towards their comrades, all down, only two of them clearly breathing.

“Fine.” Markus called up one of his fireballs, and - petty as he hadn’t been since working for Inien - pushed it into the guard’s arm, much as he had done to Ashe before they’d switched bodies.

The guard shuddered, their arm spasming. They dropped their cannon as they collapsed in a faint. Markus stared down at them until he was sure of the slight rise and fall of their chest, then turned away. He leaned against the wall, his knees trembling. _I used too much,_ he thought. _But there’s so many rooms to check. I can’t stop until I find them._

——

Ashe woke up in a dark room. There were no windows, just a door and a faint sliver of light coming from around it. She could just make out Gregor next to her, silhouetted by the glow. Both of them were handcuffed to rings in the wall, and her pin and Gregor’s badge both lay on a counter just beside the door. They were frustratingly out of reach, even with how little she could move her arms.

She sat there, tense, waiting. There was nothing else _to_ do. Eventually, Gregor woke up as well, and managed to shift so he was at least sitting properly instead of on his knees.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“I’m the one that got knocked out first, I think,” she answered. “We weren’t prepared for that. For… whatever this was.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “After you fainted, I tried switching to all of my armor, but… Whatever they have, it’s like it attacks your self, not your body.”

Ashe nodded.

She wasn’t sure how long they were there, but eventually, they could hear some kind of commotion. Screams and shots echoed down to them, distant at first but consistently closer until they were just outside. She edged closer to Gregor, as far as the handcuffs would let her.

Then the doorknob started glowing, white-hot, before it simply melted away. She flinched from the brightness, and when she looked up, there was Markus in the doorway.

She could see a surge of magic around his blond hair before he came fully into view - black, dancing wisps of energy that curved like horns from his forehead. Long fangs, long like his claws peeking out from between his lips. Blood - none of it seemingly his own - stained across his clothes, his hands, his skin. Even untransformed she could almost see the dark energy he exuded, a menacing, malicious black aura. His eyes shifted, cold and uncaring blue that caught on her own emerald -

And then he smiled and all the darkness, the unease, seemed at once to melt away.

He used his claws to cut through the handcuffs on both of them, careful not to nick either of them, and then pulled each of them to him in a tight embrace. His transformation blew away from him in shreds of shadow as he cried into their shoulders, sobbing and hiccupping and mumbling, “You’re alright, I made it, thank goodness…”

Ashe patted his shoulder, looking over him to the chamber outside. She could see other open doors, revealing paintings and statues and such that looked like they should’ve been at the museum. But in the main room, there were bodies, and more blood, and none of them were stirring.

She bit her lip as tears sprang to her own eyes. She rested her forehead against Markus’ shoulder, holding onto him tightly as well.

Gregor kept his expression calm as he surveyed everything himself. “Yeah, we’re okay,” he insisted. “We’re all alive. We’re here.”

The sun was rising when they stepped outside, the sky a brilliant mix of pink and orange. Together, the three of them turned away from Duskcove’s building, and back towards their home.


	13. Descent of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s no time to rest from their recent ordeal before the Guardians return to Duskcove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains blood, violence, and death

At first, I thought it was a shadow. It was only when the faintest light began dancing around my ankles that I realized what it truly was - a flame so dark, so dim, that it only _resembled_ a shadow.

I narrowed my eyes and scowled at it. "You're not fooling anyone."

The not-shadow exploded with a flash, moving and dancing intricately as sparks of red and yellow and orange spun themselves together into form. My expression remained stoic as always. This was quite clearly a show, an attempted display of power or ability or whatever stupid thing it was spirits cared about. I was not impressed.

"You're not corrupted. What are you doing here?" I crossed my arms with a disdainful eyebrow raise.

The smile formed first, so wide it almost cut its face in half. Its hair spiraled upward into a mass of streaked flame, just above wide eyes that immediately set to studying me as it glided across the floor.

"Why, _hello,_ " the spirit crooned as I adjusted my posture ever so slightly, more aggressively. "A new Guardian?"

"By your standards, I'm sure."

Its grin widened. Many years later, my apprentice would get that same look in his eye that this spirit held. "I like you. You've got a _bite_."

"I don't care what you think. What are you doing here?"

"I've not been _tainted_ , so I don't believe I owe you that knowledge. My name, though, is Orien, if it concerns you in the slightest."

It didn't.

"If there's no corruption here, then I'm leaving." I unfolded my arms and corrected my bookbag's strap. It peered at the bag with interest.

"Oh, a student of Vivefsi, if I'm not mistaken. They've got a good taste in humans, if you're the standard to go by."

I frowned. "I'm hardly a student of theirs, for one thing - "

"Ah!" Orien pulled back in exclamation. "Then you've got so much still to learn!"

" - Because I've taken to learning myself. Selective information is hardly of use to me. The library contains hundreds of books on whatever I care to know."

"But the library is hardly a start." Its grin grew wider, eyes brightening with interest. "What can beat a first hand account, the proficiency of _experience?_ "

It eyed the pristine white dagger I held in my right hand. As it drew nearer, moving to grab my arm, I adjusted my grip so that the blade faced it. It paused.

"I remember Vivefsi. Drawled on too much for my liking. Either deafened you with useless facts or silence. Have you, for example," it continued, "considered... _not_ having a spirit companion?"

"It's crossed my mind," I responded in a tone that held only the slightest interest. "Though there's no way to achieve it that I can see. Too much focus on trinkets and bindings."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong!" I glared. It did not seem to care. "A Guardian's weapon is created by their spirit companion, using a little bit of themselves at its core. There is only one way to kill a spirit - with its own magic."

It gestured to my dagger. "And, I'm sure you must have read, that magic of the same kind is drawn together, though my experiments on the subject remain inconclusive."

At once, the stream of memories were broken, and I could taste it - void, power, magic... _infamy_.

And then Inien, _this_ Inien, turned to me, smiling a jagged and all-knowing smile, before the world dissipated. I was left lying on Thog’s couch, with the weary fatigue of cognizance, blanketed by the heavy smell of coffee, and the faintest taste of copper on my tongue.

\-----

The stench of sulfur surrounded the three of them as they popped back into the museum parking lot. Markus staggered, and Ashe put her arms around his torso to try and hold him up.

“Easy!” she said. “Easy, you did it, we’re back okay.”

“Yeah.” Markus stared straight ahead, his eyes unfocused. “But we’re not done yet.”

Gregor checked over his car, glad to see that it hadn’t been damaged in last night’s fighting. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“We have to see Kyl’il.”

“Are you kidding?” Ashe gently helped Markus to the ground, propping him up against Gregor’s car. “You’re barely awake as it is. I don’t know _how_ you managed to transform again and get us all the way back here. You need rest, Markus.”

“Yeah, but…” He pointed upwards, to the streetlight next to them. “How come she hasn’t checked on us yet? Something might be wrong.”

“Dammit, you’re right.”

Gregor handed Ashe his keys as he walked over to them. “Here, you unlock it, I’ll help him get in.” He stifled a yawn. “We all need sleep, but we can’t leave things as they are. Even if Kyl’il did come to us, we’d need to figure out what that all was about last night.”

Ashe grumbled but did as she was told, opening up the back door. It was a strange sight, Markus with his horns and claws in the seat of a car, and the oddity of it made her smile despite everything. She returned Gregor’s keys and got into the passenger seat, her leg bouncing impatiently for the drive to the edge of Braeden.

They both transformed once Gregor had parked next to the worn path leading to the ruined bridge, and Ashe offered her support to Markus again, helping him walk to the boat since he had no energy left to teleport them directly across the water to Kinir.

As they got closer to the island, Ashe felt the air getting hotter, and a faint surge of electricity across her skin that gave her goosebumps. She shared a brief look with Gregor, worried, but neither of them said anything.

The three made it up the stairs carved into the cliff on the other side, only to find Kyl’il already waiting for them. She stood in a rough circle of blackened grass, and some of the flowers beyond that were wilting under the heat the spirit was emitting. Her clothes flickered like flames, sparks danced along her horns, and Ashe couldn’t look directly at her face, as her eyes seemed to burn as brightly as the sun.

Ashe started to speak, but a squealing form slammed into her chest, almost making her stumble. She looked down to see Dont, eyes twinkling with tears, and smiled. “You’re alright.”

“So’re you!” the pigbat answered, flying around the three of them as she scrutinously inspected them all. “You’re alive! I’m so… I’m sorry, I couldn’t do anything before, but you’re back and you’re okay and - !”

“It’s alright. You did what you could,” Ashe insisted, holding up her free arm. Dont landed in the crook of her arm, accepting the hug.

Looking around, Ashe also saw Thog and, next to him, a young woman. It took her a moment to recognize Inien, Jay on her shoulder and her hair still bearing that touch of white, but taller and with slightly sharper features. She seemed nowhere near as old as she had been back when Markus had still been her apprentice, but still, the sudden change in her appearance was striking. The two were standing well away from Kyl’il, outside the range of her searing energy.

“You all did well,” Kyl’il said, her voice harsh despite her words. “Considering what you’ve had to deal with.”

Ashe looked at the spirit, tired eyes focusing on her horns to avoid the pain of meeting her gaze. “What do you mean by that? You must’ve known about what was going on there, Kyl’il, that they’re doing… _something_ with spirit energy. Why didn’t you send us after them when they first showed up?”

Gregor glanced at Ashe. “You might not want to be so accusing right now,” he mumbled.

“No, bright Aesling is right,” Kyl’il answered. “I did know that _Duskcove Industries_ was here.” She spoke the name as if it was venom, words she hated having on her tongue. “But I could not do anything, even tell you all about them. They’re not within Braeden - even that warehouse is just on the edge of my territory. Another spirit guards the countryside, and I dare not anger them. It is an ugly thing, when spirits war with each other.”

Gregor shook his head. “But they’re a human company, right? And why would that other spirit allow them to exist?”

“Some of us don’t interact directly with mortals, or only care about their affairs when they affect that spirit’s being as well as their domain.” Kyl’il’s voice grew quieter, and a feral smile crossed her face. “But all of you are my own, even if you use young Dont’s power, as she is my apprentice. An attack on you is an attack on me, and I am allowed to retaliate even if Duskcove Industries is outside of my territory. So I will use my magic to send you to their headquarters, and you three will be the full blaze of my power, turning them to cinders that all will see in the wind, and know not to trespass against me.”

Ashe blinked. She’d never seen Kyl’il like this, and it unnerved her. _Turn them into cinders._ The words circled around in her head, made her want to throw up. These were humans and despite what they’d done to her, trying to imagine doing what Kyl’il wanted them to do made her feel small.

_I’m only seventeen._

She looked to her friends, ragged and tired, but determined. She bit her lip as a burst of devotion seemed to flood her chest, washing away all other emotions.

_For them. Anything for them._

Markus, next to her, nodded. “It makes sense. It’s about what I did.”

Gregor shook his head. “But we’re all tired. There’s no way we can do this now, especially with Markus in the state he’s in.”

Kyl’il approached them, grass burning away with each step, although she still stopped a few feet away - each of the Guardians felt uncomfortably warm, but at least they weren’t being burned. “You can, and you will, for the good of this city. I have the utmost faith in your strength.” Her voice brooked no argument.

Thog circled around Kyl’il to the three of them, Inien following him with short steps that wouldn’t disturb her falcon. “Be careful,” he warned. “The rumors say that Duskcove is collecting spirit artifacts. I met with Rat last night, to reassure the guy that I’d still buy from him even if they approached me with some kind of deal. There’s no way to be sure what’s going on, if some of the spirits have been tricked or are working with them by choice, and you all know just how varied spirits can be.”

Markus, Ashe, and Gregor each nodded, slowly. _We don’t really have a choice, do we?_ Ashe thought. She wanted to go home and sleep, let the nightmares of the day wash away with her dreams, but at the same time, she knew Kyl’il and Markus were right. They had to take care of this now, before something larger happened. The whole situation frustrated her, but at least she could use her anger to work past her weariness.

“I want to go too.” Inien’s voice cut through the sudden quiet, drawing everyone’s attention.

Thog glared at her. “Absolutely not,” he said, at the same time as Markus.

Gregor looked at her, concerned, but didn’t say anything.

“Why?” Ashe asked. “And - what happened to you, anyways?”

Inien seemed sheepish for a moment. “A magical mishap,” she said quietly, tugging on the end of her braid. But then she looked at each of them, her eyes bright and her voice sure. “I’ve been studying, since I recovered from my coma. And I _need_ to see this, what all of you are fighting, what you’re risking for everyone. I want to help you. I can cast a few spells already - I even fixed Jay’s wing!” She smiled as the bird crooned happily, and raised her hand to pat his talons.

“You… you broke the lock on my books,” Thog grumbled, his eyes narrowing as he realized it. “Do you have no respect for privacy?”

Inien shrugged by way of answer, and Thog said something else, too quietly for Ashe to hear. But that wasn’t her concern at the moment. She looked at Kyl’il, questioning.

“Tempted Inien is not one of my Guardians, or a spirit in my realm, or a human threatening it. This decision is not mine to make,” she said.

“More help wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Ashe admitted. “And we gave Markus a chance almost right away, why not Inien? Especially if she has figured out some magic already.”

Gregor crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you really considering this? Even with that mishap, Inien’s still clearly a kid.” He glanced at her. “Maybe even still younger than you, Ashe. We can’t put anyone else at risk with us, especially since this is something so much larger than a simple purification.”

“Spells can be worked from a decent distance. We’ll just keep Inien behind us, and she can help without putting herself in too much danger. Markus is barely able to stand on his own, and you and I only got sleep because we were knocked out last night. We _need_ the help.”

Inien stepped closer to Ashe, matching her expression as the Thief glared at Gregor and Markus. “You can’t argue against that.”

“And you, patient Garrisons?” Kyl’il suddenly said, looking to her side.

Ashe turned, distracted, and tensed up as she saw another spirit - a strange being, face half-shrouded by an odd cloak and watching her with four empty, blue eyes. Sharp spines that curved out from rough hide, a plate-like substance across its stomach and under its tail, and golden jewelry that seemed to almost wrap around it like chains. She stared as Dont left her to circle around the spirit curiously, then realized Thog wasn’t around anymore. “What’s going on?”

  


 

Gregor followed her gaze, taking up supporting Markus as Ashe let go of him to call her sword to hand. “Where did you come from? What happened to Thog?”

“I’m still right here. And I’m just Thog, Kyl’il. I have been for a long time.” The deadpan that came from the spirit, though its voice was harsher, clearly matched the curator’s familiar tone. “This is simply my natural form - I wasn’t sure if I could take it since the two of us became one, but I suppose it works.” He straightened up some, suddenly gaining a couple inches of height before looking at each of them in turn. “If my ward is going, I will as well, and do what I can to Iimit trouble.”

Dont flew back to Ashe, then to Gregor and Markus, circling them hesitantly. “I want to go too, but I shouldn’t. The weapons Duskcove’s guards used… They just sounded like so much screaming to me. I’d do more harm than good. Still!” A faint beam of light followed her wings as she circled them one more time, then stopped in front of each of the three and bumped her snout against their noses in turn. “For luck!” she said.

Ashe rubbed her nose, smiling at the pigbat’s enthusiasm. “Since when can you give us luck?” she teased.

Dont landed on the ground, staring up at her. “I can’t, but… Who knows, maybe spreading more of my energy over you will help somehow! Whatever I can do to help, however small!”

Kyl’il took the last few steps to stand directly before them. She still looked agitated, with sparks flickering from her horns, but she was no longer emitting enough heat to burn anything around her, and her eyes were closer to their usual glow instead of a searing brightness. She looked at Markus, considering. “I am glad for what you did, burning Markus. I saw what your actions at that factory, and I know what it cost you. I am grateful to you for being my flame, and dispelling the darkness around my Guardian.” She placed her hands on his shoulders, and kissed his forehead, softly. A small imprint of her symbol glowed on his skin for a moment, then faded away.

Markus suddenly straightened, standing on his own for the first time since leaving Duskcove’s factory. “Thank you,” he said, his voice full of awe and breath no longer quite as shaken.

“Twelve hours. That’s all the energy I can give you. If you do not rest after that, you will cause permanent harm to yourself,” Kyl’il explained. She held up her hand then, and a small vial etched with her flame-flower and filled with ashes appeared there. She offered it to Inien, who cautiously accepted it and tucked it into her satchel. “When you are ready to return, break this, and I will summon all of you back here. Now, are you ready?”

The five of them huddled together, Jay still clinging to Inien’s shoulder. “I believe so,” Ashe said.

“Then go, and burn with the fury of all the lights in the sky.” Kyl’il said, before chanting something in a different language. Pale light enveloped them, blocking their view of the lighthouse. It dissipated a minute later, revealing a snow-covered field with a large skyscraper just in front of them.

There was barely time to notice more than that, as guards standing by the door raised weapons at them. Ashe and Gregor both rushed forward, knocking the two out before they could fire.

Markus strode ahead of them, to the glass doors. “Don’t see a doorbell,” he commented, casually drawing his sword from the depths of his cape. “So let’s announce ourselves.” He struck the doors, sending pieces of glass clattering to the floor.

“Did you have to warn everyone in there?” Thog said.

“I’ll do whatever I can to hurt anyone here,” Markus answered coldly. “If they refuse to run, it’s not my problem.”

Ashe glanced at him, then returned her gaze to what remained of the doors, wary in case they were rushed by more guards. “Just be careful,” she said, unable to think of an argument that might cool his rage.

Their group proceeded forward. Inside was a large, empty chamber. No greeting desks, no guards, just bare floor and walls. At the end were two spiral staircases, one leading upwards and one going down. “Which way should we head?” Gregor asked.

“Down,” Inien said, Jay taking off for the stairs the second the word left her lips. At the odd looks she received, she shrugged. “If you’re going to hide stuff, put it in the basement, right? Upstairs would be offices, for appearance’s sake.”

Thog shook his head, his heavy tail thumping the floor once in aggravation. “You and I really need to talk about even the vague intuition stuff you remember.”

Inien shrugged again, then fell behind everyone else as they moved towards the stairs. They had to go one at a time, Gregor in the lead. The stairs descended seemingly without end, and Inien lost count after enough to cover three floors. She let her mind wander, trying to ignore the tense feeling in her shoulders.

\-------

The small white creature hovering near my head seemed, to their credit, somewhat confused. I continued to relax in a nonexistent chair before the flickering screen - that was, somehow, getting a signal - and finally, they spoke up.  
  
“Where did you get that, Inien?”  
  
“For the millionth time, _Tori_. Or even just Victoria. We’ve been over this, Vivefsi, I’m only Inien while I’m transformed.” I then shrugged and smiled. “I got it... around. I’ll tell you if you tell me where you get your books.”  
  
Vivefsi paused for a moment, each of its six ears twitching at once and eight nondescript blue eyes possibly studying me. “Point. So why is it here?”  
  
I gestured to the television. “We don’t have one at home, and I don’t think it would go over well if I just showed up with one.”  
  
They moved closer, almost over my shoulder. “What are you watching? It seems… somewhat childish for someone of your age.”  
  
“It’s some kids show, yeah, but it’s the only good thing that they show on Saturdays.” I threw my hands to either side as the screen flickered brightly. “Come on! These villains are such idiots. If they just used a damn gun or something they’d beat these kids half their age. Or even just got competent help!”  
  
Oh the irony.  
  
The spirit tilted their head and just seemed more confused. I patted the floor beside me. “You can watch with me, if you want. Shows like this may not be your thing, but they air a lot of nonfiction stuff, too. I’m sure there’s something you’d like.”

  


 

They settled onto the wooden floor, wings and tail tucking in uncertainly. There was another bright flash as something on screen exploded. They frowned. “That’s not even remotely in accordance with the laws of physics! How could they - “  
  
“Says the tiny floating spirit.” They looked at me, ears bending in a way that I figured was to be interpreted as a glare. I laughed.

\-------

At the bottom of the stairs was another large chamber, although this one was narrower than the entrance. Inien was the last to leave the staircase, and as soon as her feet touched the floor, an alarm started blaring.

Inien backed up onto the stairs, only to hear a loud clatter above her. She looked up and saw a metal grate slide over the top of the stairs, barring them from retreating. She reached for the spellbook in her bag, even as Jay started circling near the ceiling.

Ashe, Markus, and Gregor moved closer together. Thog kept a few feet away from them, his eyes shifting focus quickly as he tried to notice the entirety of the room.

The alarm continued to sound as panels along the walls slid back, revealing multiple small tunnels. A rumbling seemed to emit from each, shaking the world around them - after a moment it became clear that it was an angry, inhuman growling. All at once, dark shapes emerged from the tunnels: twisting, inky beings, canine in form but with no discernable features besides mouths. The growls turned into barks as they scented the three Guardians and their companions, rushing at them.

Thog punched the first to leap at him, only to be tackled by two more. He let out his own feral growl as he wrestled them, trying to free himself. Ashe tried to move to help him, only to be cornered by three of them herself. She scowled and slashed at them with her sword. The shadow-hounds whined in pain, but the cuts she made quickly healed and they lunged at her. She had to use the bulk of her blade to fling them away from her.

Gregor wasn’t faring much better, having to act defensively because any damage he did was superficial to the hounds. Markus, however, was throwing his fireballs at them, and the ones he hit would yelp and limp or move sluggishly after. Above them, Jay continued to circle, diving at any of the hounds that tried to flank the three and trying to distract them before the hounds could use their numbers to overwhelm them.

Inien, meanwhile, paged through her book until she found a spell that looked promising. She reached for the energy that she still barely understood, the core of herself that she wanted to control, and focused it outwards as she recited an incantation. “Breath of the north, sight of the mountains, still their blood and _freeze!_ ”

Loud creaks filled the air as ice started to encase the shadow-hounds, stopping them in their tracks. The ones not affected by the spell panicked then, and ran back into their tunnels. The alarm stopped a moment later.

Ashe took a breath and turned to look at Inien. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” Inien said as Jay returned to her shoulder. She tucked her spellbook under her other arm and descended the stairs to rejoin the group. “Is everyone alright?”

Thog grunted as he got to his feet from under one of the frozen hounds. A few deep scratches ran across his thick hide, the wounds shedding pale blue blood. “Well enough,” he said.

Markus walked forward and hit one of the frozen hounds with the pommel of his sword. It shattered into pieces, and he nodded to himself. “Just give me a moment,” he told them, raising his arm to strike another.

Gregor grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Don’t. They’re only doing what they’ve probably been trained to.”

“They’re a part of Duskcove,” Markus answered coldly. “I won’t leave anything here to follow us.”

“But we don’t know what they are - what if they’re pieces of a corrupted spirit? Or just normal dogs with a spell on them?” Gregor shuddered as he thought about it. “Spirits usually dissipate when we defeat them, right? Why are these staying here as you destroy them, even with the spell? We can’t just act blindly. We have to take care for anyone we might be hurting.”

“Don’t worry too much,” Thog said, before Markus could answer. His eyes had a faint glow to them, as did his claws. “There’s no life in these things. They’re… chimeras, I believe, humans used to call beings like this. Artificial. Created by magic, but with no spark of life in them.”

“And,” Ashe added, touching Gregor’s shoulder. “We don’t want Inien’s spell wearing off and them coming after us, right?”

The warrior nodded after a moment. “You’re right.” He let go of Markus’s wrist. “Okay, let’s take care of these, and keep going.”

The door at the other end of the chamber was unlocked. The next room was lined with shelves, each holding a canister with either glowing white liquid or wisps of something smoky inside them. Ashe approached a shelf, frowning as she looked at it. “What do you guys think these are?” she asked, turning to them.

Thog, Markus, and Inien were all tensed up. Thog had his weight forward, almost crouched over the ground, looking ready to lunge at something. Inien was simply frozen, her eyes wide, and Markus’s hand was white-knuckled as he tightened his grip on his sword.

“I’m not sure, but it’s…” Markus shook his head and growled, his voice unusually rough. “It’s something evil, I can sense that.”

“It’s filtered,” Inien said. “I can…” She closed her eyes, vague flashes of equations and circles coming to mind. “M-my memories keep flickering through my head. It’s something similar to what I researched, before, I think.” She took a step closer to Thog, and Jay made a worried sound. She raised her hand to lightly touch the falcon’s wing, trying to reassure him. “I’m not sure beyond that, but it shouldn’t exist.”

Thog bared his teeth as he moved forward. “Spirits,” he grumbled. “It’s all spirit energy. There’s… No wonder Dont was so shaken. Even _I_ can hear their screams, and she’s much more sensitive than me.” He raised one claw to tap at a canister. “It’s so many.” Again, his eyes and claws started emitting a faint light. “Their forms were taken from them, and they’ve been forced together.” As he spoke, his words became angrier and angrier, full of more emotion than any of them had heard before. “No body, no source, nothing to cling to - it’s the worst thing you could do to a spirit that’s started to become its own self.” He slammed his fist against one of them, but it merely rocked in its place, undamaged.

“And if I ask you all to break them, the energy released would probably drive us all mad before it evaporated.” He turned towards the far wall, where another door waited for them. “Let’s just keep moving for now.” He started walking, Inien following him closely.

Ashe shared a look with Gregor and Markus. Markus shrugged, and Gregor had a frustrated expression, but none of them could think of anything to say for now, so they followed as well.

“Stay behind us,” Ashe reminded Inien as they caught up.

The teen rolled her eyes, but complied, pausing to let the three Guardians move ahead of her.

The door at the far end of the room led into a hallway. They proceeded cautiously, halting and waiting every few steps to make sure there was nothing trying to rush them. Finally, after about five minutes, they rounded another corner into a third large room, as bare as the entrance had been.

A familiar figure waited in the center of the chamber - a strange purple jacket across his shoulders, bare hands wrapped in blue gloves, long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. His single, orange eye shone with an expression Ashe couldn’t read, and to either side, Duskcove guards flanked him, their weapons immediately locked on the Guardians. Ashe stopped when she saw him, her eyes narrowing and a heavy weight settling over her shoulders. “What’re you doing here?” she said, her voice high-pitched in shock.

“What I have to,” Colvin answered, his voice so quiet they could barely hear him. He inclined his head, just slightly, and the guards fired.

Ashe backed towards Inien, with her sword up to block the shots coming at them, as her other companions dodged and moved closer to attack. Jay’s wing clipped her cheek as he flew ahead as well, shrieking a challenge as he aimed his talons for the nearest guard’s eyes.

Markus teleported behind the group, and managed to get a sneak attack in that dropped one of the guards. As quickly as he had been, Colvin was suddenly in front of him, and Markus barely managed to dodge his blow.

Ashe waited a moment to be sure no one else was aiming towards Inien, then joined her friends. _Take out the small fry first,_ she thought, focusing on the nearest guard, who had their own attention on Thog. She struck the guard’s arm, making them yell and drop the gun, but not before they got a shot off.

Thog was a second too late in sidestepping, and the burst of energy caught his leg. He howled in pain, and for a moment, his body seemed to waver, silhouette becoming fuzzy and unclear at the edges. He curled in on himself, sinking his claws into his arms and drawing blood. The pain seemed to help him collect himself, and he immediately rushed at the guard, slicing at their chest.

“You alright?” Ashe asked, lifting her eyes to pick out a new target.

“Yeah.” Thog gestured towards Gregor, who was trying to flank Colvin while he tried to corner Markus even with the rogue’s teleporting. “I’ll help them. You cover me.”

“Gotcha.” As Thog charged forwards, Ashe went for the next Duskcove guard. She aimed for wrists and arms as much as possible, trying to strike with the flat of her sword. She’d rather break bones than kill, and without their spirit-weapons she doubted the guards could do much to any of them.

Occasionally she noticed a flicker of flame, or a rush of air, as Inien whispered incantations that at least distracted the other guards, if not knocked them out. Jay kept up his own attacks, screaming warnings as someone just out of her line of vision aimed at Ashe, giving her just enough time to jump to the side and switch her target.

Finally, the only opponent left standing was Colvin, surrounded by Ashe’s teammates. Thog was panting heavily, on all fours, his tail lashing back and forth as he waited for an opening. Gregor had all of his armor on but was pale from exertion, a dark bruise on his cheek. Markus had broken one of his horns, but his sword had been knocked from his hand, and he clutched his side as he knelt on the ground, teeth bared in a snarl. Colvin, for his part, seemed reluctant to strike first, his arms up in a defensive stance.

  


 

“Ashe!” Markus shouted, seeing her. “We need more power - break your bindings!”

_My bindings?_ Ashe’s heart skipped a beat, and she felt ice in her veins. Sensations rose to the front of her mind - _a swirling tempest, a thousand thousand deaths all weighing on a pinprick of light, a vague loss as more energy was pulled from her and into a twisting mass of blue and gold, a white-masked shadow looming over her, a voice that never left her alone, “Weak, burdensome, never enough” -_

She stumbled as something struck her back. She whirled, raising her sword, only to see Inien there. “You can’t be more useless than me here,” the brunette hissed quickly. “So hurry up and use more of your power!”

Ashe slowly nodded, steeling herself. She turned towards Colvin again, two of the bands around her arms falling away. She felt her ears changing shape and sliding up on her head, could see the flow of energy in the room. There was so much, lasting trails from the Duskcove weapons along with a faint blue aura around Colvin, and the paths her allies had taken during the fight. The thinnest string of flame that tied her and Markus and Gregor together, and a twinge of yellow that did the same with Inien and Jay.

“Let us by, Colvin,” Ashe said, as green sparks danced along her sword.

He met her gaze, single eye burning. “Sorry, but I can’t.”

“Fine, then.” Ashe rushed at him, as behind him Markus managed to stand and throw one of his shadow-daggers at Colvin, just slightly to the side so he couldn’t dodge that way.

Colvin raised his arm to block her, barely reacting as Ashe’s sword cut into his wrist. She pushed some of her energy at him, using the contact as a focus, and he _did_ flinch at the lightning arcing at him and along his arm.

Thog and Gregor took their chance to attack then, Thog swinging low and Gregor using his glaive to strike at Colvin’s shoulder. He twisted away from Gregor’s attack, but Thog managed to bowl him over, and he slid along the floor on his back.

Colvin made no move to get back up, cradling his cut and singed arm against his chest. “...Good job,” he said after a minute. He closed his eyes and relaxed, a wry smile crossing his face. “I’m sorry I had so many people with me. It wasn’t a fair fight. So I’ll tell you to be careful - the person up ahead isn’t someone you want to face while already worn down.”

Inien was the first to move closer to him. “ _Why_ are you even here?” she asked, repeating Ashe’s thought from before.

“Maxis - he’s the head of Duskcove - took me in after the Truths disbanded,” Colvin said. Even as all five of them circled him, he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling, not meeting anyone’s gaze. “My energy was out of control, because it had no idea how to react to Legan’s transformed spirit, but having his eye forced that interaction. I was constantly having fits and breakdowns because I didn’t realize there was magic happening. I barely knew there _was_ magic...”

Markus’s scowl deepened. “So, what, you can overlook him exploiting spirits or whatever the hell is going on here?”

Colvin shook his head. “I probably would’ve died or gone insane without Max’s help. Despite what he’s doing here, I owe him my life. So I had to make an effort to defend him when he said he expected trouble. I pay my debts.”

Ashe knelt next to Colvin, and gently squeezed his uninjured shoulder. “Thanks for the warning,” she said, trying to shove her own anger at the situation away. “Get some rest, Colvin. Sorry about your arm.”

He looked down at the cut, and chuckled to himself. “I’ve had worse. Good luck, all of you.”

Ashe stood, and looked at her friends. “Everyone ready?”

Gregor rested his glaive against his shoulder. “As much as I can be.”

Inien, Thog, and Markus each made their own agreements.

“Right. Then let’s go meet this Max guy,” Ashe said, taking the lead into the next room. Even as light lit the corridor between them, it seemed unusually dark - a gaping darkness just beyond the doorway that consumed all that dared enter.


	14. Rise of the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians confront the head of Duskcove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The chapter contains blood, death, and violence.

Shadows surrounded them in the next room, but Ashe could see a thin line of spirit energy and Gregor’s glaive started glowing faintly to light the way for everyone else. Thog seemed to have no issue with the dark, but Inien stayed close to the Warrior as they proceeded down another hallway, this one with multiple twists and turns.

“You know, this would normally be unnerving, but it’s nothing compared to the Prison of Lights,” Markus said after a minute.

“Lucky you, then,” Inien grumbled.

“We should be quiet,” Gregor said, before Markus could say anything else. “We need to pay attention for anything that tries to attack us.”

“Sorry,” Markus and Inien both said, before letting silence overtake them once more.

Ashe lost track of time as they kept walking. Had it been five minutes, or ten? Twenty, even? She had no idea, and it was starting to unnerve her. Finally though, after rounding one last corner, she could see a golden light ahead. It was faint, but definitely there. She quickened her pace, leading the way.

The room they came to was larger than any other in the complex, with a vaulted ceiling overhead that disappeared into darkness and balconies built along the walls. In the center was a platform with a device similar to Kyl’il’s map of Braeden, a golden orb that had many, many pinpricks of light covering it. Next to it stood a man in a heavy blue coat, the low sleeves revealing a white shirt and red vest. He turned towards them, revealing that his face was covered by a gold, winged mask.

“You must be the Lantern-Bearer’s Chosen,” he said, inclining his head almost respectfully. “I welcome you to Duskcove Industries. Rowian Igni Maxis, at your service.”

Ashe rolled her eyes. “He’s like you, only worse,” she whispered to Markus.

“I’d never be _that_ tacky,” he answered.

Thog’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Max. “I’ve never sensed your kind of energy before,” he said, somewhat confused. “Everything about you, it’s taken from somewhere else. What the hell are you?”

Max’s grin widened, bearing familiarly dagger-like teeth, and he bowed dramatically. “Very good eye, sir!” He straightened, then leaned casually against his map.”I’m… Well, I feed off of the energy that others produce. Magical and spiritual energy, to be precise. I’ve been called many things over the centuries, but I believe the current term is a ‘vampire’?”

Gregor stepped forward. “Colvin said you’d saved his life. It was so you could use him as a food source, wasn’t it?” He pointed his glaive at Max, accusing. “You sensed his energy, and took him in so you’d be able to take all of it for yourself.”

Ashe tensed up slightly, but let out a small sigh in relief. With Gregor’s intuition, they wouldn’t be on uneven footing for the fight she could feel build in the room, drawing closer with the tension everyone could sense.

“I wanted to help the poor lad,” Max said, any sense of guilt lost as his smile stayed plastered on his face. “It’s not my fault if the result was mutually beneficial. Now, why have you - agh!” He grunted in pain as one of Markus’ fireballs hit him. He put out the flame on his sleeve, his affable smile replaced with a glare. “Fine, let’s get to it.” Shadows rapidly cloaked him, before his form disappeared.

Markus swore under his breath. “I can’t believe we’ve got another teleporter,” he grumbled, before disappearing himself. He reappeared on a lower rafter, scanning the room.

It took Max a moment to reappear, on one of the balconies. As soon as he did, he let out a low whistle. Barks and growls filled the air as more of the shadow-hounds slunk out of tunnels along the walls, quickly breaking into a run at the group as they scented them.

Ashe broke her next binding and let the blade of her sword transform to one of pure energy, not wanting a long fight with the dogs as before.. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Thog pick up Inien and run for the nearest set of stairs, depositing her on the balcony before taking up a guard position below her.

Jay circled above, doing his best to hinder their attackers, while Gregor tried to hold off the hounds until Inien could cast a spell that would let him actually damage them.

On his own balcony, Max continued to address them. “We could be partners, you know. I would gladly welcome the Lantern-Bearer’s strength!” He stopped as Markus teleported in front of him, drawing a sword of his own to parry the Rogue’s strike. “I’m collecting spirits, I’m sure you noticed. The more I gather, the less you have to purify. You could have time for yourselves, luxuries and hobbies beyond the thankless toil of a Guardian.”

“Forget it,” Markus growled, even as he noticed Ashe falter for a moment. He was about to teleport to her when she shook her head and redoubled her efforts against the hounds, trying to clear a path to the balcony where he and Max clashed. To his frustration, the vampire seemed content to merely block his attacks, and never strike himself.

Markus teleported behind Max, trying to throw him off, but Max pivoted and brought his sword up in time to block, not seeming to care as some of the poison on Markus’s blade bored pits in his.

“You can’t fool someone else with that skill,” Max pointed out, before continuing his monologue, pitching his voice to be heard in the whole room. “Really though, think of the possibilities! Spirit energy isn’t just good for weapons. It could replace electricity, solve the humans’ silly energy crisis. It could lead to innovations in technology. You could even use them for therapy with some people!”

Inien’s head snapped up, away from her spells. She stared at Max, something flickering in the back of her mind. Words like that were never so plain, never so -

“It’s a con!” she called out, all of the pieces snapping together for her, almost trying to reassure herself. “If people use devices powered by spirits, that means more people awakening their own magical energies. More people he can feed from!”

Max turned to look, startled, giving Markus an opening to properly strike him. Max snarled in pain, before catching Markus’s next attack by the hilt of his sword and using the contact to shove him back, down the stairs. Markus teleported before he wound up covered by shadow-hounds, reappearing on a third balcony.

Max took the chance to focus on Inien, and his smirk suddenly returned. “You’re the Witch, aren’t you? Inien the Bloody?” He laughed. “But your energy isn’t like the woman I met before. It’s all wrong. You have no right to that name, although maybe, if you helped me, I could make you great again.”

Inien’s eyes narrowed, and Jay screeched as he dove at the vampire.

Max knocked the bird away, using a bit of his own magic to do so before Jay even reached him. He was cloaked by shadows again, and reformed on the railing of Inien’s balcony. “Is that a no, then?”

“Stay away from her!” Thog growled, charging up the stairs. Max dropped his sword and met the charge, locking into a grapple with Thog for a moment. Then he let himself relax, leaning back some before using the momentum to shove Thog over the railing.

Markus and Gregor were both backed into a corner, and Markus didn’t dare leave the Warrior without a way of actually hurting the shadow-hounds. Ashe had taken Thog’s place, keeping the hounds from attacking Inien. _Useless!_ she thought, anger at herself lending more ferocity to her strikes, but there was no way she could make it up there without causing them to be overwhelmed.

Inien backed up against the wall, her book falling to the ground as fear overwhelmed her. She tried to remember one of the incantations, but the words wouldn’t come to her, stumbling over them as if they were tongue-twisters.

Max picked up his sword. “A pity, but if I must kill all of you, I have to start somewhere.”

Desperate, Inien reached into her bag, her hand closing around the one weapon she had left.

—–

A long time ago, in a city far far away, darkness had already descended. The sky was lit by pinpricks of light amidst the settling clouds, and the moon peeked around them to cast its glow on the world below.

The clock tower, standing proud and tall in this distant land, struck twelve. Its cry echoed, each beat seeming to last a millennium, and by the time its last call finally died, I stood, waiting, at the bottom of the tower.

I wrapped both hands around my necklace, a small golden charm in the shape of a crescent moon. Power surged to my fingertips and at once, I felt it spread and begin to envelop me.

_“Pretty Magical Spirit Thief Inien!”_

My clothes changed in an instant, and boots formed at my feet. Gloves traced the magic up my hands and to my arms, my cape blossomed out behind me in a flourish. A familiar weight settled on my head and, with that, I opened my eyes and looked up.

I could feel the call already and in a puff of smoke I vanished, reappearing at the top of the clock tower and amidst an ever-growing collection of books. Shelves lined every space, with no rhyme or reason to their placement - or so it seemed.

“Hello,” said a voice, cool and calm as per the norm. I turned my head ever so slightly to find my companion spirit in their usual spot - a small cushion in the center of the room, tomes scattered around it. Eight featureless blue eyes looked at four floating tomes.

“Vivefsi,” I greeted it in a tone so sweet that under any other circumstances it would’ve made my hair curl.

They looked up, eyes growing wider in alarm - the most emotion I ever saw them express. “Inien?”

My dagger, pristine and white, settled into my hand. When I didn’t reply, Vivefsi sounded slightly more panicked, if barely. “Inien? Inien, what’s wrong with you?” And then, much quieter: “…Victoria?”

I simply smiled - it seemed to be my natural state - as blood ran its way down my dagger and splattered across the closest of the spirit’s precious books. The floating ones tumbled to the floor and their covers were stained as they landed in the red pools.

Magic burst into the air like snow from a snowblower and I held out my hand, letting it find its way into my grasp in the same manner I might purify a spirit.

Somehow, though, I knew, as my Guardian’s magic entwined with my own, that it wasn’t enough. That this _weakling_ spirit’s power would’ve never been enough, not for what I would eventually plan do with it.

I traced my eyes along the shelves of the library, endless books on anything I could ever care to learn about, and smiled. And, as intricate and half-formed ideas - a dozen ideas, maybe more - began to surface in my mind, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I threw my head back and laughed.

—

“You’re right.” The brunette looked up at him and smirked, an expression easily recognizable from a time long past and altogether unnatural  on her young face. “If I’m going to be Inien, I might as well _be_ Inien.”

There was the briefest flash of white before she now stood, inches from Max, with her dagger embedded in his stomach. With a swift tug she removed it, and he choked and leaned forward, covering the wound with his hands as a thick substance began to seep from it - more purple than red and almost dark as night.

She spun the dagger once around her finger before grabbing it again, smile growing wider and eyes narrowing. The blood-like substance flew from it as it moved and was now pristine again, save for the usual red streak along it. “What you should’ve known about Inien is that I only care about _myself_. You couldn’t _pay_ me to put up with the likes of _you_.”

A look of frightened realization dawned upon her face. It only lasted for a mere moment before her eyes closed, weapon still tight in her grip, and she collapsed across the floor.

Max’s body fell off the balcony, dissolving into dust before it could even land. The shadow-hounds lasted a moment longer, a few of them starting up mournful howls, before they, too, faded away.

Ashe shuddered, her feet not wanting to move as she remembered _that_ Inien. She turned to the stairs leading to Inien’s balcony as Thog rushed past her, arriving at Inien’s side just as Markus teleported over. “Is she alright?” Ashe asked, forcing herself to move.

Markus nodded, two fingers against her throat. “She’s alive, at least. But that’s…” He looked down at the knife and bit his lip. “When did she get that again?”

Ashe picked up the knife and shoved it into her belt, trying to ignore the cold sensation that came from touching it. “Does it matter right now? We just need to get out of here.” She looked over at Gregor, across the room. “You okay?”

He gave them a thumbs-up, leaning on his glaive. Ashe couldn’t remember ever seeing him so exhausted. She jumped to the floor and hurried over to him, trying to not look eager for the distraction. Green sparks formed at her fingertips as she approached. Getting closer, she noticed the cuts and bites on his arms, and set about healing him as best she could for now.

“We got lucky,” he said as she worked.

Ashe nodded. “Yeah. If Inien hadn’t had that knife…” She couldn’t make herself say it. _We would’ve failed._

“Before she comes with us again, we’re going to have to train with her. Or something.”

“If Thog lets her do something like this again.”

Gregor laughed quietly. “Do you really think his permission will keep her out of this? What would _your_ family say about all the spirit stuff?”

Ashe grimaced, thinking briefly of Wren. “Point.” She finished patching up his wounds. “But that’s for later. Let’s just go.” She turned towards the exit, glad to see Markus and Thog already waiting for them, Thog holding Inien piggy-back and Jay resting on top of his head, a few feathers bent but otherwise alright.

They started down the dark corridor again, and Ashe put voice to what hung over all of them. “So what should we do? He’s dead, I think, but we can’t just leave all of this for someone else to use.”

“Is there any way to return the spirits to themselves?” Gregor asked. “Or… attach them to different artifacts, somehow?” He looked down at his glaive. “It might feel weird for them, but it’d be better than nothing, right?”

Thog let out a small growl. “It’s impossible. They’re too tied up in each other, too traumatized. The best we can do for the captured spirits is break those containers and hope the energy leads to new ones being born at some point.”

Ashe nodded. Now that they were facing the direction of the containment room, she could see the tangled mess of energy, the crossed lines and confused auras, at the very edge of her sight. “I still wish we could do more”

“Thanks,” Thog told her. “But at least, I don’t think any of them were fully awakened yet. Don’t worry too much about it.”

She bit her lip and hurried ahead, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

——-

_She_ stood before me, same smirk upon her face that I knew I’d been wearing but mere moments before - or what felt like it. The only difference between our smiles were her familiarly jagged teeth, which did nothing to settle my unease. If I had to place a word to her expression it would be “accomplishment”, or even “pride”. Her smile became toothless and, suddenly, she spoke.

“You did good.” She looked me up and down, and then at the dagger in my hand. “Glad to see you’ve still got it in you.”

What to say to _that?_ All the confidence I’d felt when standing before Max vanished and we were both well aware of it. She took the steps forward until she stood directly before me. It felt like she was looming over me, although I knew she was only a couple inches taller at most.

She held out her hands and, within them, a leather tome formed. She deposited it into my grasp. “I think you could learn to use this. Get yourself back on track with magic.”

My head began to ache. I could feel the world slowly shattering around me, and yet she remained there, amber eyes locked on mine. “Besides,” her gaze shifted to something cool, calm, and calculating, smile never faltering. “If you’re going to be me, you’ve got a _lot_ of catching up to do.”

——

Inien woke up to find herself laying on the ground, scratchy grass poking through the back of her jacket and shirt. She sat up, blinking in the sunlight, before she remembered those last few seconds. “Are we okay? Did we win?” She started to stand up.

Markus was sitting next to her, and he placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from moving too quickly. “You took out Max for us,” he explained. “And the rest of us,” he gestured to the rest of their group standing nearby, along with Colvin, “destroyed the canisters that housed all that spirit energy.”

“So… we won.”

“Looks like it.”

Inien frowned, worried over his tone, but decided now wasn’t the time to ask. She waited a moment more, then carefully stood up, and smiled as Jay fluttered over from Thog. “You’re alright, too?”

The falcon cawed in answer, and started preening her hair, giving up when his beak wouldn’t go all the way through her braid. Inien laughed and hugged him, careful in case he had bruising or anything from when Max struck him.

Ashe noticed Inien was up, and led the others over to them. “How’re you feeling?” she asked, hesitant.

Inien shrugged. “I’m alright.” She noted Ashe had her knife, but tried not to focus too much on it. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it anymore. It had saved her life, but it had also given her a connection to her past that she wasn’t sure she wanted. Even now, her bag was weighed down by an extra book, and she didn’t want to consider what it was or how it got there.

“Then we should get going. The sooner we’re away from here, the better,” Ashe said. She turned to Colvin. “Are you coming with us?”

He shook his head. “No. I should finish what you all started.”

Gregor looked between the singer and the Duskcove building, tapping the handle of his glaive against the ground. “Will you be alright?” he asked. “There’s a lot here.”

“And it can’t be easy for you, considering,” Ashe added.

Colvin shrugged. “I have to. I let things get this far- I could’ve fought Max myself, or warned you all. I didn’t think it was a good idea, but… I felt like I had to listen to my teacher, you know? Now, I’m a little more free, and I can do what I should’ve before.”

“Thank you,” Markus said. A faint blush covered his cheeks as Ashe gave him a surprised look. “What? I might not like that he was here, but I can appreciate him saving us the trouble of doing all this ourselves!”

She shrugged. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect that. You’ve had a longer day than any of us.”

“Depending how you measure it,” Thog grumbled. He was back in his human form, although he kept tugging at his bracelets, anxiously readjusting them on his wrists, or patting the pocket where he kept his watch. “Let’s just get the fuck out of here already.”

“Right.” Markus urged everyone to move a few more feet away. “We can’t be sure how much space Kyl’il’s magic will take, and we don’t want to get Colvin caught up in it.”

Inien waited while everyone circled her, then held up the vial of ashes and threw it against the ground, shattering it. As soon as they touched the air, the ashes started glowing like embers, and light started to envelop them.

Before they were completely surrounded, Inien looked over Ashe’s shoulder. She met Colvin’s eye, gold and copper, and she thought she saw him nod and give her a grateful smile -

But then her vision was filled with white light, and she couldn’t be sure.

——-

They all reappeared on Kinir, at the base of the lighthouse. Kyl’il started to greet them, but Thog was already rounding on Inien, his expression a mix of hurt and anger and concern.

“Where did you get that knife from?” he asked, his hands on her shoulders, tone more stern than angry. “There’s no way you could’ve retrieved it, it was in the Prison, so that this sort of thing wouldn’t happen!”

Inien grimaced, and looked down as Jay made an indignant noise from where he sat in the crook of her arm. “It’s okay,” she muttered to the bird, before sighing and looking up at Thog. “I… found it. In Markus’s bag, last night. I could sense it, and I was curious, so I grabbed it, but then I passed out and when I woke up I was different.”

Thog turned his glare on Markus. “And how did _you_ get it?”

Markus took a step back, raising his hands in a show of surrender. He couldn’t take Thog’s glare along with Ashe’s wounded look, and Gregor’s confusion, and Kyl’il’s intense but emotionless stare.

“I tripped over it, in the Prison of Lights,” he admitted. “I picked it up without thinking, and later… I don’t know. I thought I might be able to find a way to purify it.”

“Of all the cursed, hare-brained, wisp-addled ideas, you had to come up with this fucking shade of a volatile pigheart - ” Thog listed off a series of insults, and Markus had to marvel at the artistry of the spirit’s swears. Half of it he couldn’t even figure out what exactly the insult was for, but the gist of it was clear.

Markus waited until Thog had to stop and catch his breath, then said, “I’m sorry, alright? I should’ve told you right away, I know that, but after everything with that other thief and the masks I… I was worried you all wouldn’t trust me. _Again_.” He knew he had a few hours left of Kyl’il’s blessing, but even just saying that made him feel drained, and all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.

Ashe walked over and placed her hands on her hips as she stared up at him. “You’re ridiculous,” she said. “But you did the right thing. I think.”

Gregor nodded, coming to stand with them as well. “We might’ve just thrown it back into the Prison, if Thog had it there in the first place, and then who knows how today would’ve gone?” He glanced at Inien. “I wish it could’ve been with less harm done, but she is the one that finished off Max, so it can’t be all bad, right?”

Thog stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You haven’t lost my trust, kid,” he said. “More, I feel like I let you down, that you didn’t think you could come to me.” He scowled at the three of them, then took a step back so he could include Inien in it. “If you all _insist_ on messing with dangerous magical stuff, I’d rather be able to know about it and keep an eye on you than be blindsided by it.”

“Sorry,” Inien muttered.

After a moment of silence, Kyl’il tapped her staff against the ground to draw their attention - a sound so quiet it was almost silent, and yet eerily commanding. “You all did well,” she said, and for a moment pride flared in her voice. “I could not have asked for better Spirit Guardians, stronger swords, or more furious flames. Even more than what I do as your spirit, I owe each of you a boon, especially you, tempted Inien.”

Inien bit her lip. “I just don’t want Markus to get in trouble,” she said, scuffing her foot against the ground.

“He would not be, so that is not something I will grant you in payment.” Kyl’il smiled at her, gentle and warm as a hearth. “But you do not have to have it now. In future, just know that you can ask a favor of me, and I will do all that is in my power to grant it.”

Markus rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, what I want isn’t something that can come from you, Kyl’il.” He looked at Ashe and Gregor. “I think… A lot of what’s happened, it’s because something’s wrong with me. Always has been, I think, because of how I first awakened to magic. I want…” He ran his hand through his hair, sighing. “Do you two think you could purify me?”

Ashe tilted her head to the side. “My energy purified Inien before, so it must be possible, but… Are you sure? We don’t know what it might cause.”

Gregor looked towards Kyl’il. “Is it even possible for two people to purify one source, without getting in each other’s way?”

“When it comes to another human?” Kyl’il frowned, and looked at Thog. “It should be possible,” she said, and he nodded in agreement. “It’s been done with a spirit, at least. You just both have to be dedicated to your goal, and your energies should work together.”

“Okay then.” Ashe placed one hand to her collar, considering breaking the last of her bindings for this. _No,_ she decided a moment later. _It might flood him with too much of my energy. I don’t want to change him, just get rid of any corruption._ She looked at Gregor. “Ready?”

“I think so.” He held out his hand. Ashe took it, and then he touched his glaive to Markus’ shoulder while Ashe placed her other hand against his stomach. They both closed their eyes, concentrating.

Markus’s energy was fire, true to Kyl’il’s name for him. Every part of him flickered and burned, so it seemed that only a part of his whole self ever existed at once, but every emotion he could possibly have could jump up larger and brighter than the rest at any given moment. He was bright, and warm, and cold only in the absence of himself.

Next to her, she could sense Gregor, solid at his core but wavering at the edges - she wondered if that was because of the spirit in his glaive, helping to guide him here. Both of them could tell that whatever Markus sensed in himself wasn’t here, so they let themselves fall deeper into him, past the flames to what seemed to be a bed of coals.

The whole while, Ashe was careful not to reach out and touch any part of Markus she could avoid. She wasn’t sure what the contact might cause, or if she might hurt him. So she reined in her own energy, keeping it tight to herself even as she searched deeper into Markus’s.

Amid the coals, she noticed that some released a blue energy that she recognized as Dont’s, while others were ash-covered, and still more remained a steady black. She reached out to the ashen ones, and was flooded with mundane sensations - _hands tingling from the bleach he used to clean, chest tight while turning away from his parents, the burn of alcohol at the back of his throat, the joy of cashing his first legitimate check._ Ashe left it alone, not wanting to intrude. Clearly those were fine, which just left the black ones. She turned her attention to those, and - _claws carving through flesh, his sword sinking into a body, more and more power calling to him, knowing that no one could dare defeat him, a thirst to display all he could do and watch everyone cower before him, welcoming the rage that meant he could use all of himself -_

Ashe grimaced and cast her energy towards Gregor’s. He joined her, and together, they focused on the black coals, doing what they could to break them apart and destroy them. It was long work, and tiring, as it was difficult to pick out the corrupted coals without disturbing the rest. Ashe tried to minimize the amount she touched the other parts of Markus, but she still picked up on certain things - _a need to be safe, collecting info he could use in a pinch, doubting every decision, an urge to help others, afraid of messing up, afraid to lose what he had, comfort as he sat next to Kyr and pieced together a small device, wanting to protect Inien, wanting to defend Ashe, lasting guilt over how he treated Gregor…_

She tried to ignore those, to respect Markus’ privacy, but the deeper they went to burn out the corruption, the more visceral and vivid the sensations became.

Finally, they found what seemed to be the last bit of corruption. _“You’ll do.”_ The words echoed in her head, Inien the Witch’s voice repeating over and over again, grating and bringing with it a terrible, creeping sense of agony. Ashe grit her teeth and focused, her energy entwining with Gregor’s as they worked to crumble it away, letting the flames of Markus’s soul burn the dust and rid himself of the last of what ate away at him.

Their job done, Gregor and Ashe retreated back to themselves. When she opened her eyes, her vision was blurry with tears. She wiped them away, then realized that the guys were crying too.

“Better?” she asked quietly, looking up at Markus.

He nodded, and pulled them both to him in an embrace. “Yeah. Thanks, both of you.”

Ashe pushed away after a moment, not sure if she could handle the extra contact. She still had no idea what to do with everything she’d felt, everything she’d learned. “It’s the least we could do.”

Gregor nodded. “Yeah.” He looked thoughtful, and stepped away from them. “I’m… glad we could help you, Markus. Thank you for letting us.”

Markus wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just turned to Ashe. “May I?” he asked, gesturing at Inien’s dagger.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Thog said, watching them. “You should take time to get used to how you are now, learn what’s changed, before you go messing with more corrupted things.”

“I _have_ to do this,” Markus insisted.

Ashe nodded, and handed the blade to the Rogue. “Just be careful, alright?”

He smiled. “Like I’m ever reckless,” he teased, before turning his focus to the blade.

At first, nothing seemed different than when he’d tried to purify it before. It was still dark all the way through, and still seemed to want to consume him. But he was patient now, and knew he had to have a gentle hand. Feeling what his friends had done for him, he had a better idea of how to approach this.

Finally, he realized that parts of the knife’s energy shied away from him, bending back and curling in on itself. When it did, the rest seemed to surround those portions as well, tearing at them and covering them. _So that’s your game,_ he thought, and reached out to the parts trying to surround him. He let his energy press against it, burning his way through it. The darkness fell away in shreds, and eventually, he started to see light replacing it.

After a while, he noticed that not all of the darkness was disappearing. He almost redoubled his efforts, until he realized that the parts not burning away weren’t actually shadows - they were like bits of writing, tying the energy of the rest of the knife together, guiding its flow and ebb. He could even sense a curiosity from it, a need to learn from and absorb everything around it.

Amused by the true nature of the blade, the remaining energy of Inien’s original Guardian Spirit, he finished his work quickly. Now that he knew what to look for, it was easy to tell the difference between the gentle interest of the knife and the all-consuming possessiveness of its corruption.

He finished, and when he looked down at the blade, the red stain on it was gone. He glanced to the others, and smiled as he saw Dont had finally shown up, floating between Gregor and Ashe as they all watched him, although she seemed very tired. It was almost like she’d just woken up before coming out here, the lucky pigbat. He held up the knife. “What do you think, Hedwig?”

Dont snorted at him, but flew closer and peered at the dagger. “It’s… Definitely calmer,” she admitted. “Good job, Markus! Your first purification!” She turned towards Kyl’il. “What do you think? Should we make Inien a Guardian as well?”

The light spirit pursed her lips, considering. Before she could answer, Inien spoke up. “I’d rather not.”

“Why, though? I thought you wanted to help them!” Dont said, moving closer to her - though she was careful to stay a few feet away, wary of Jay as he focused on her.

“I do, but…” Inien shrugged. “I want to on my own merit, not a spirit’s. And…” She shuddered. “When I touched the knife, I got some memories back. What I did - it’s still strong in my mind, and I can’t shake it. I don’t want that kind of power until I know I can handle it. I don’t want to be like how I was.”

“An admirable idea,” Kyl’il said. “And one I must agree with. You are showing quite a lot of strength, tempted Inien.”

She grimaced at the name, then turned to Markus. “If it’s okay, though, I’d like to keep the knife. Just in case.”

Markus started to hand it to her, but then pulled back and looked at Thog. “What do you think, boss?”

Thog shrugged. “At least I’ll know she has it, this time.” He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “Just. You can keep it,” he said to Inien, “ _if_ you let me help you learn magic. It’s risky to be messing with this stuff on your own. You never know what attention you might attract.”

“Sure thing, _Dad_ ,” she said, rolling her eyes and then smirking as Thog shuddered.

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled.

Markus laughed and handed the knife to Inien. Then he looked to the sky, and realized the sun was already starting to go down. He let out a low whistle. “How long did that take?”

“Long enough.” Thog rolled his shoulders and neck, and all of them could hear his joints popping slightly. “And I’ve had enough excitement for today. We’re going home.” He and Inien walked away, Thog’s form shifting into his spirit one as they approached the edge of the isle.

Kyl’il watched them, then turned her attention to Dont and the three Guardians. “You all have earned your rest,” she said. “I thank you again.”

“Just tell us next time, please?” Ashe said. “We’ll fight whatever spirit tries to pick a fight with you for telling us things, but I don’t want this to happen again.”

Kyl’il actually laughed, the sound low and startling like the crackling of coals. “Very well, then. You’ve earned that much.”

Gregor shook his head, stifling a yawn. “Thanks,” he said, although he sounded slightly unnerved. “Shall we, then?”

“Yeah.” Markus turned to follow them, startled when Dont flew over and landed on his shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

“I just wanted to…” Dont paused, her snout scrunching up as she considered something. “I wanted to thank you for saving Ashe, before. Miss Kyl’il told me you acted rashly, and recklessly, and not at all how you would prefer to be, but if there’s one thing that can bring out that part of you, I’m glad it’s for her sake.”

“For both of them,” Markus corrected in a whisper. “But I appreciate it, I guess.”

“Yeah.” Dont gave him an affectionate headbutt, then left him to ride on Ashe.

The rest of their walk passed silently, and once they used the boat, he let his transformation drop. “I’ll see you guys later,” he said, taking out his phone. “I’ve got to do something normal for a bit before the adrenaline wears off.” He raised his phone to his ear as he walked away. “Hey, Kyr! You’re never going to believe what happened, do you have any dinner plans? No? Great!”

The three of them watched him walk away, and then dropped their own transformations. Ashe stretched as she did, frowning at the stiffness she still felt, and the bruises still on her arms. “Great,” she mumbled to herself, pulling her sleeves down to cover them.

“Hopefully these’ll clear up,” Gregor said, touching his cheek and wincing. His own bruise was still there, opposite his scar. “Do you want a ride home, Ashe? Once we get to the museum and get my car, I don’t mind.”

“That’d be great, yeah.” She paused, looking at him. Something was different, but she wasn’t sure what for a moment. “Wait. Is that a new coat?” she asked, finally realizing that he wore a leather coat, much fancier and more stylish than his previous worn-and-puffy winter jacket.

Gregor rubbed the back of his neck. “Captain Camberwell got it for me as a Christmas present,” he admitted. “Didn’t you notice it before?”

Ashe shrugged. “I don’t really pay attention to what people wear. It took me like, three months to notice when Aeva started doing the whole goth thing, and even then it was only because everyone else was teasing her for it.”

“Wow, and I thought I had a bad attention span,” Dont chirped.

“Shut up,” Ashe grumbled, although she was smiling. She was quiet for a few seconds, then looked at Gregor out of the corner of her eye. “Do you ever… Consider it? Telling her about the spirit stuff?”

Gregor shrugged. “Of course I do. But then I think about how, even if she did believe me, it would throw everything into disorder. The police have no way to battle spirits, but they have to keep the citizens safe. And what if it got bumped up to being something the military handled? It would just cause a lot more problems than it would solve, from what I’ve seen. Although, thinking about it now, I can kind of see how people might’ve been taken in to follow Max. He was going to give them a way to fight back without having their own magic.”

Ashe crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, but most spirits are just acting on instinct. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a malevolent one that’s like Thog, or Kyl’il.”

“And if we ever do, then I might consider telling Azura. For now, though…” He shrugged. “It’s better to keep it to myself, I think. Safer.”

“Safer, yeah.” Ashe sighed, and suddenly shivered as she realized how cold it was. Even with her own jacket on, she could feel it. “I just really wonder, sometimes.”

Gregor took off his coat and dropped it over her shoulders. “You’ll make the right decision,” he said as she looked up at him. “Just don’t rush it, and they’ll be fine.”

She pulled the coat closer around herself, mulling everything over. As always, it seemed like too much to handle, but if she’d lasted this long, she could keep going. She had to. She took a deep breath, before smiling at him.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spirit Thief Aesling will return for a third season. In the mean time, check out our tumblr at http://spiritthiefaesling.tumblr.com/ for all the chapters as well as concept art.


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